True Darkness
by thewriteroffiction
Summary: It has been 10 years since the demise of Lord Voldemort. Ten years since the Golden Trio broke apart. Now, ten years after everything ended and fell apart, Trio are called together once more as a new darkness threatens to engulf the world once more. HHr
1. The Beginning

**Synposis: **It has been 10 years since the demise of Lord Voldemort. Ten years since the Golden Trio broke apart. Hermione went West, to the United States, Harry went East, to Asia, while Ron stayed in England. Now, ten years after everything ended and fell apart, the Trio are called together once more as a new darkness threatens to engulf the world once more. Stronger than ever, they are more than ready to fight again, but can they face the darkness once more? After the cost of the last war, they vowed never to become heroes again, else lose what little they had left. But when the world is truly in need of them, will they rise to the occasion? Or turn away...

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything that JK Rowling has created.

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**The Beginning**_

* * *

_August 15, 2007  
Somewhere in California, United States of America_

"Hey Bueferd!" cried a large, bald man. A small beard clung haphazardly to his chin and his face was lined with numerous scars.

He stood in the middle of the big stone room. Tables filled the empty space, accompanied by dozens of chairs, but they were all empty save for the large man and Bueferd.

"Bueferd!" cried the man again, his beard waving slightly from the movement of his jaw.

"What?!? What is it, you drunk.?" came the reply of the bartender, shaking his head as he wiped at some glasses with a dirty towel.

"Yeh know... I... well, there be this woman... and.. I been talkin to 'er... but, yeh see... she supposed to be here... 'coz I got something teh say, to 'er, yet she ain't here.." replied the drunk, taking a swig from a large mug in front of him. Half of the beer trickled down from his mouth and onto his beard, which was soaked in it.

"Right.. if you say so," came the unconcerned reply.

"Yeh see... there be strangers come... and they... they being suspicious, yeh know... it be them that set loose them dragons... causin' all these fires and whatnot..." the drunk paused to take another gulp at his drink, "...and... and the reason, yeh see, that them firemen ain't able to... to put them fires out is 'coz... it's dragon fire... and it ain't easy to put that out... without them use of magic," the drunk stood up then, swaying slightly as he stumbled over to the bar.

The bartender looked at him funny as he put down one of the glasses he was trying to clean. "Dragons, you say? I think you've had a lot more drink than you should have, you fool," Bueferd said with a laugh, but it was then that a consistent thumping sound made itself know.

It got louder, to the point that the whole bar was shaking.

Then a roar echoed close by, closely followed by screams and explosions. The ground shook, glasses fell, and the tables and chairs tumbled over. Bueferd and the drunk came to the floor in fear.

The roof suddenly exploded inward as a gigantic ball of fire came crashing down on it. Splinters flew as the fire engulfed everything save for the bar area, which was saved from the worst of the fire.

A large winged beast flew overhead, roaring as jets of flame poured out of its mouth. Another roar answered it as yet another winged beast beat its wings and flew over the town, sending balls of flame hurtling towards the earth. Mushroom explosions flashed everywhere as the fire brightened both earth and sky.

Screams of terror and pain barely penetrated the constant thumping of wings and the crackling of the fires. The loud booming of the explosions were like thunder in a storm, echoing everywhere and overpowering any other sound.

Just as suddenly as it came, the attack ceased. The thumping grew distant and the creatures no longer roared. Smoke darkened the already dark night as the fires burned away the town.

Bueferd coughed. He shifted a little, his mind still in a daze as his eyes watered from the smoke. The heat from the nearby flames made him sweat and stung his skin a little. He tried to move, but a piece of the ceiling had fallen onto his leg, pinning it down. He couldn't feel it, but he knew it must have been injured badly. Blood was everywhere and it was in these moments that he imagined he would be yelling in intense pain, but there was no pain. It was just the smoke, the fire, and his breathing.

He looked around, the walls had collapsed inward when the ceiling came down and he could see the extent of the damage. Almost every house was ablaze, gobbled up entirely by the dancing flames. The fire had already spread to the surrounding brush and was spreading faster towards the horizon. Then the smoke obscured his vision once more and then darkness took him.

* * *

Hermione surveyed the scene. The fire was raging out of control, contributing once more to the horrible wildfire epidemic that was sweeping California. The California State Wizarding Council was still debating whether to help the muggles or not. 

She scowled at that thought. They were debating over whether or not to help for the overall good? In Hermione's mind, she would've helped them immediately and helped avert all this needless destruction. Thousands of people were being evacuated, all because the magical community in the United States was far more removed from the society of muggles than it was in England.

She derailed that train of thought immediately as memories of her time in England started to come to the forefront. She did not want to deal with that at the moment, she had a job to do. She would have been to the town earlier and, possibly, stopped the crisis before it got out of hand, but she had gotten mixed up with the town names and had gone to the wrong one.

The police were still in the process of cordoning off the area, rolling police tape around traffic cones and barriers. There were a little over a dozen police cruisers and four firetrucks, but the fire had already burned down the town long before they had arrived.

This was no simple arsonist, nor was it an accidental fire. Hermione could practically taste the magic that permeated the air. It was so thick that she could feel it on her skin when she moved.

A swift flick of her wand and she analyzed the magic, something she had learned in her days back in England. She shook her head again, this was no time to reminisce about the old days.

She was there on an official investigation for the CSWC, something that they didn't really need much deliberating about. She had practically forced them to do it, her words harsh and angry. The Council was made of really old wizards who, in Hermione's opinion, should not have been elected to the position of power and leadership. They resented her presence in California, but they needed her because she was an extremely capable witch, truly one of the brightest in her age.

Her scanning finished a half an hour later as she walked through the rubble, analyzing everything and anything, from stone to ash to debris. It was then that a cold feeling settled inside her and fear crept slightly into her mind. This wasn't the work of regular wizards. Her analyses led to only one plausible culprit: dragons.

Two of them, possibly. One stronger and older than the other. Yet it wasn't any kind of dragon she was aware of. Every magical being who used magic had a distinct magical aura, specifically for each type of creature. Humans had a common framework for their magical signatures, which varied only in the specifics. Other creatures did too, and this most definitely screamed the work of dragons.

She bit her lower lip as she pushed back a lock of brown hair behind her ear, concentrating hard on what this all could mean. A species of dragon never before seen or heard of? Perhaps a cross-breed? But that was deemed improbably since dragons only mated with their own species, never intermingling with the others. In fact, if left together, they would fight each other until one killed the other and so would be superior.

There was another theory, though, more plausible than the first one. It was possible that a species of dragon long thought to be extinct has been recovered and revived. That would explain the unknown magical signature, but it didn't explain the motive. Why set them loose upon the world? Perhaps it was an accident? Yet if it was, it would have been reported already.

Her mind continued as she paced inside a ruined building, some of the walls still lay intact and hid her from the police. It was then that something the police were saying floated through the air and into her ear very clearly.

"... a survivor..." said one of them.

Hermione looked up and turned, her chocolate brown eyes wide as her mind churned again. A survivor would have memories, first-hand data. She needed to get to the survivor somehow, and fast. Something within her told her that something bad was happening, something really bad.

* * *

_Just outside Devon, England_

Ron apparated into his house, which was more of an estate really. It was large, nearly half as big as Hogwarts and about half as tall. There were more than forty rooms, most of them bedrooms, but they were rarely filled. It was only when he threw a large party that most of the rooms were used, but even then that didn't account for the secret rooms he had built or for the underground part of his home.

All of this, of course, came from his astonishing career with the Chudley Cannons. He was "King Weasley" or "Goalie-God" to the thousands of fans that now knew his entire life by heart. He was the pride of the Cannons, the secret weapon that had led to their victory in the English League for the eighth time in a row. He had also helped them to win the World Cup twice, in 2002 and 2006. The MVP awards from both of the Quidditch World Cups gleamed brightly in his trophy room, which was only filled about a quarter.

Sighing, he started to strip his clothes off. His six-foot-five muscular frame soon stood naked as the large jacuzzi-bathtub filled up quickly. Mutliple faucets spewing out different colored liquids, which all mixed in the tub. He stepped into the nice hot bath, bubbles floating everywhere, and sat down, relaxing almost immediately.

The tub was encased in a glass stall, which kept the heat in and allowed for steam to remain inside, giving a sauna-esque feel. This was the life he had always wanted to live, but he had always imagined sharing it with his two best friends. This caused him to frown all of a sudden as he shifted slightly in the tub.

It has been nearly ten years since he had last seen them. Ten years without any contact from either of them, two of the people who he had considered, and still do consider, to be his family. He took some time to imagine what they were doing, wherever they were.

Perhaps Hermione was reading deeply into an ancient tome of some sort on some obscure piece of magical history, trying to uncover the secrets of magic or something of the sort. Harry was probably out trying to live a simple life, either that or he was in the thick of things, fighting for the good of all and being his usual selfless self. Yet he hadn't heard anything at all about them. Well, not exactly anyway.

He had heard some rumors that Hermione was in the West Coast of the United States, doing some magical government work of some sort. Harry, on the other hand, he had heard nothing about. Not even a single rumor, though there used to be a lot. After the third year or so, his name was pushed back to the third, fourth, then last page of the papers, eventually disappearing as the public lost interest.

Well, wherever the bloke was, Ron was sure that he was having fun.

* * *

_Somewhere in Tibet..._

Harry stood still, his muscles not moving the slightest bit. Even his breathing was so shallow that he moved scarcely a millimeter each time. He was in the final stages of his training, the training that was supposed to have been finished with Dumbledore, had he not... Harry stopped thinking of him. It only brought back bitter and sad memories that he had long ago learned to repress.

A wall of steel surrounded his mind and also divided it, keeping the darker memories in a small space of his mind, away from everything else. The monks and masters that he had met and learned from had taught him so much more than he could have hoped for. Dumbledore's diary and letter to him had advised he travel East, where magic was different than from the West.

He also learned more about disciplining and honing his body, which he learned was essential to not only keeping healthy but also to maximizing magical potential. A sound mind and body could control and channel more magic than one that was not. He breathed in the cool, fresh air of the mountains, the cold not affecting him as his barriers and wards kept the bite of the wind at bay.

The warming wards that kept the small area at a reasonable temperature also helped in that manner. Harry turned to his dinner, which he caught instead of conjured, without magic no less. He had mastered many weapons, one of which was the bow, and he had learned to move silently and swiftly anywhere. He ate in silence, not having spoken to anyway in the past month. In fact, there was no one on the mountain save him at the moment, which was why he was there.

He needed to get in touch with magic on a closer level and, being in the bustle of society made that impossible. Once his attunement with magic was achieved, he would be far more powerful than before. After all, magic was a channeling and controlling of energy, and what better way to do so than to get to know magic on a more base level, make it more natural and more flowing.

He had learned over the years that many wizards, especially in the West, wrestled magic and forced it to do what they wanted. It was a rough method, but it worked. It did, however, hinder them from using magic to their full potential and it also resulted in a lot of wasted energy, but it did not matter. If it works, they would use it no matter what.

He heard a slight rustle in the trees behind him and his senses went into overdrive. It was an animal of some sort and in a few seconds his magic extended outwards and he sensed that it was an eagle. It had perched on a low branch and dislodged some of the leaves from it, causing the slight noise that he heard. What piqued his curiosity, however, was the fact that the eagle had a certain magical aura, which was being masked.

Harry continued eating, fully aware that he was being watched by this eagle, or in truth, some wizard or witch. He would find out soon enough, but first he would play along and see where this went. He was also very hungry, after all.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"All is well, my Lord. They are getting bigger and stronger as the days pass. Your legions are forming as we speak and all goes as planned," reported the large figure dressed in black robes.

The room was made of obsidian and the darkness was overwhelming save for the slight flickering light from the lone torch in the middle of the circular room, at the end of which was a large obsidian throne. The figure could not see who he was talking to, but he knew who it was and he knew what it could do and so had no need to see it. After all, no one had seen it and lived to tell the tale.

"Your thoughts stray yet again, Salisco. Soon, perhaps, I will reveal myself to all... but it is not time for that yet, no. Not until the plan is well underway," came the reply, the voice was somewhat alien, as if not natural.

The figure bowed, though he wondered if the being on the throne saw him do so. Even with the torch, the room was still incredibly dark. He could barely see around him and wondered if there was anything else in the room, but then thought of other things. He would be told everything he needed to know, anything else was not his business.

"Good, you will learn that well in the coming months. Now, tell me all that I have missed for all this long years. I have been asleep for far too long, it seems," commanded the being.

* * *

**AN: **And that's the start! Tell me what you think. 


	2. Strangers in the Night

**General Note: **Thanks to all reviewers. All will be explained soon.

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**Strangers in the Night**_

* * *

_August 15, 2007  
11:40 pm (PST)__  
__Fort Irwin, San Bernardino, California_

Brigadier General Matthew Pillar rubbed his eyes with his right hand as his other held the phone to his ear. He had dark brown hair, with some slight silver streaks starting to show, mostly because he hadn't had them trimmed yet. He was about six-foot-three, lean, and still in pretty good shape considering he was pushing fifty. He had some battlescars, mostly through flying debris and some shrapnel from a mine long ago.

"Yes sir," he spoke into the phone, nodding and rubbing his eyes at the same time. He was talking to the Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Carlton, a reserved and yet powerful man when he wanted to be.

"Yes, sir. We have him here... Yes, sir, I understand... completely sir.. Very well... Understood sir, he won't be going anywhere... He'll be here when you get here... Yes, sir... Right away..." and then the phone line went dead.

Matt put the phone down and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He pressed the intercom on his desk and spoke into the microphone.

"What can I do for you, General?" asked his secretary.

"Annie, get me Jason will you? And get me some coffee, it's going to be a long night. Set the base alert to condition orange, I want the men ready for anything. General Carlton is coming."

"Right away, General."

He leaned back in his leather chair, patting down his wrinkle-free uniform. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes again. Perhaps he could get a bite to eat before the General came along with his coffee. He pressed the intercom button again.

* * *

_Right outside Fort Irwin..._

Hermione bit her lower lip as her mind raced into action. Why would they send him to an army base? She had first gone to the hospital that the survivor was sent to, only to be told that the army had taken him by chopper over to Fort Irwin. Something about National Security.

She wondered if they knew, but then shook her head. Only the President and possibly some of his cabinet members knew about the magical community. It wasn't likely that anyone else below that would know, though lately she wasn't feeling all to sure about the facts that she once held to be absolute.

She transfigured her outfit into an army uniform, making herself a Major while she was at it. Anything higher could probably raise suspicions, but she would need the disguise if she were to do this with as little magic involved as possible. Satisfied with her appearance, she apparated into the base.

She appeared right behind the helicopter hangars. Straightening out her uniform, she walked, with a slight confidence, towards one of the helicopters. The crew were crowded around it, making final checks for the night after their flight.

Her approach was spotted and the men jumped to attention as one of them yelled, "Major!"

She stopped in front of them and returned their salute, "At ease, boys. Now, where is it that our... guest, was taken?" she asked, smiling.

"Ma'am, I think he was taking to the detention center on the other side of the base. Least that's where I woulda' put 'im. He din't look in too good of a shape, though," said one of them, who was apparently the pilot of the Black Hawk.

"Very well then, thanks boys. Have a nice night," she said, turning and walking away.

As soon as she did so, they began whispering amongst each other, loudly enough that she heard, and what she heard made her blush and walk faster away from them. So the detention center... where would that be?

* * *

Ten minutes later, General Pillar was sipping coffee and eating some doughnuts when Captain Jason Alexander entered his office, closely followed by the General's secretary, Annie. Jason was Chinese, though his father had been American and had some tours in Asia, where he met Jason's mother. Eventually, she came over with Mr. Alexander Sr. and the rest was history. 

He was six-feet tall, shorter than the General, but more muscular and more fit. He had a closely shaved head with black eyebrows that hung over dark brown eyes like storm clouds. His face was free of scars, which didn't mean he hadn't seen action. On the contrary, he had been with Pillar for many engagements. It was just that he was lucky, which is another reason why he was kept around, aside from his logical thinking and sharpness.

The captain saluted, crisp and sharp, and stayed in that position until Pillar nodded and waved him off.

"At ease, Captain."

Jason went into parade rest, hands clasped behind his back and his legs ten inches apart.

"Sir, you called for me, sir?" he asked, his eyes looking straight, over the general, who was sitting down. Textbook manner. This was a little annoyance, but he was, in some cases, truly by the book.

"Yes, Jason, please do sit first," the general spoke as his secretary handed him some papers.

General Pillar turned to Annie and said, "Get a call through to the Pentagon. Ask them when the General is expected to arrive."

She acknowledged him and left, taking his empty plate along with her. The oak doors closed with a slight thud and the two officers were left alone.

Jason had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of the massive wooden table of the general, though he sat with his back perfectly straight and his hands on his knees, feet flat on the floor.

"Smoke?" asked the General.

Jason shook his head, "Sir, no thank you, sir."

"Suit yourself," the General said as he lit up a cigarette, puffing smoke almost immediately. "Now, where is our special guest, at the moment?"

"Cell 4-C, sir. Maximum security, just as you instructed," the Captain replied, " He won't be going anywhere, sir."

"Good. Keep it that way. Double the guard if you have to. The base is on condition orange so there'll be plenty of men to move around."

"Condition orange, sir? Is he... that important? It doesn't seem as if anyone would come in after him, especially if he's inside the base," said Jason, confused. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, but then caught himself and remained still.

"Yes, well... we can't take any precautions. Besides, General Carlton will be arriving at any moment. Not that anyone outside the military would know, but one never knows these days..." the general trailed off, blowing out a long stream of smoke, which was being sucked up by an exhaust fan in the corner.

"Well, if I may ask, sir... what is special about this man?"

Pillar shrugged, "No clue, son. All I know is that he survived the fire over in some town in San Diego or so... High Command had me chopper him over here and taken into custody. General Carlton, I expect, knows what's going on,"

It was then that the intercom buzzed, interrupting their conversation.

"Sir, a call for you from the detention center. It's Lieutenant Hobbs," said Annie.

"Patch it through to Line three."

Pillar picked the phone up and pressed the Line 3 button, making a red light beneath it begin to glow.

"General Pillar, sir?" asked the voice on the other end of the line.

"Go on Lieutenant."

"Do you know a..." the lieutenant paused, as if to check something, "Major Wakes? Major Marissa Wakes?"

Pillar thought for a moment, but he did not. He knew all the officers under his command, but that name didn't ring a bell. He replied, telling him that he had no idea who it was. He then asked why he was asking.

"Well, uhh... we just let her through to see our... guest, sir," the lieutenant said, cringingly.

"WHAT? YOU DID... YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING ON THE LINE SOLDIER? THERE'S AN INTRUDER! GET HER AND SECURE THE PACKAGE," yelled the general as he slammed the phone back into its receiver.

Jason had already stood before the general followed suit as they headed out the door, the general putting his cigarette out on his secretary's ashtray.

"Damnit... how the hell did she get in? does she have an accomplice? Assemble a platoon of your most trusted men, Captain," said Pillar, dismissing Jason. He turned to Annie, "Have the base locked down, no one in or out. If it's General Carlton, have him land on the helipads but tell him to stay there. Send a couple of platoons over to secure that area... just in case."

Annie was already on the phone as she took a set of keys out and opened a box on the wall next to her. She pressed a button that initiated the red alert alarm and locked down the base.

The alarm wailed and echoed throughout the base as soldiers started pouring out of their barracks.

"Emergency Lockdown! Emergency Lockdown! This is not a drill!" Annie's voice came over the loud speakers.

Four humvees idled in front of the headquarters, waiting silently. The general appeared then and a soldier got out of one of the humvees and opened the door for him.

"Detention center! Step on it!" called the general as he entered the humvee.

* * *

_Detention Center, Fort Irwin, CA  
11:58am_

Hermione healed the man as best as she could and conjured a glass of water for him once he had woken up. He finished the drink in three large gulps, licking his lips as he did so. He stood, shakily, but then decided to sit back down on the bed.

"Wh-Wh-Where am I?" he asked, looking around fearfully before his eyes rested on Hermione.

"Fort Irwin. Now, tell me what happened," she said, sitting down next to him.

He look to the wall across them, "I... well, I'm not sure, really. I just remember I was cleaning up and closing the bar down. There was this one drunkard still there... I don't remember him much, said something about dragons and this woman..."

Hermione's neck snapped painfully as her head turned quickly, making her wince in pain. "Ex-Excuse me?"

"Yeah, that's right! I remember, he said that there were these strangers or something and that they set these dragons loose and that he was waiting for this woman to tell her all about it, but that was about the time that we was attacked. I think it may have been dragons, all I know is that it was some kind of large creatures... very large, with wings... shooting jets of fire everywhere.." the man shuddered involuntarily.

The alarm started rang as loud voices echoed in the hallway just outside. Hermione quickly made up her mind and turned to the man, "Forgive me," she whispered as she took out her wand.

She stunned him and obliviated his memory of the recent encounter with her. She turned and magically sealed the door with a few flicks of her wand. Just in time, too, as the voices were right outside the thick steel door. They were shouting and one of them was trying to punch in the code to open the door, but it wasn't working.

She then pointed her wand at the man's mind, "Legilimens.." she whispered as she dove into his consciousness. Darkness swallowed her, but she fought her way out of it and found the recent memory of the attack. She quickly viewed them, storing the images in her own memory, before cancelling the spells and apparating away with a soft pop.

The door opened suddenly, the spell having been cancelled, and the soldeirs poured into the room, guns held high. They looked around, but there was no one there save for the survivor.

"Where the hell did she go?" asked one of the soldiers, looking around the small cell.

* * *

_August 16, 2007  
3:42am  
Weasley Estate, outside Devon, England_

Ron woke up, unsure of why he did. He usually slept like a rock, but lately he had been feeling off. He sat up in his double king-sized bed and grabbed his wand from under his pillow. He smiled at that. Old habits never die, he told himself as he got out of bed. The lights came on for him as his feet touched the ground. It was then that he heard something from downstairs.

The house was empty, save for him and his house elves. Ginny was over at her friends and the twins were living at their own place elsewhere. Charlie came over every now and then, but he was happily married and had his own home over in Romania. Bill was with Fleur, of course, and they came to visit from time to time as well, but they were on vacation at the moment. His parents and Pecy... passed a long time ago.

He shook his head. Again the memories were trying to rush to the forefront of his mind, where he did not want them to be. A creak sounded from one of the stairs. It couldn't be his house elves, they would not be creeping around the house in such a manner. It was then that he decided to call on them. When they didn't appear, fear struck him for the first time in many years.

Gripping his wand tight, he eyed the door warily as he turned off all the lights with a wave of his wand. The door opened, silently, and a dark figure crept into the room, closely followed by a second dark figure.

Ron modified his eyesight just before they had entered and so could see them clear as day. The first black-robed figure raised its wand towards the bed, where Ron had stuffed pillows under the blanket to make it appear like he was still in bed. A slight whisper and a red jet of light suddenly left the strangers wand, impacting on the bed.

The second figure went over and threw the blankets off, but then swore rather loudly when he discovered that Ron wasn't there.

"Looking for me?" Ron said as he sprung forward from behind a couch, tackling the first stranger. He managed to knock away the stranger's wand before Ron started beating at his face. They rolled around a little, but Ron was evidently much stronger than the stranger.

"STOP!" yelled the second stranger in a rough voice, but he hesitated and that gave Ron the time he needed to send a stunning spell at the man. It, however, was deflected, hurtling across the room and breaking through one of the windows as it escaped into the night.

They exchanged spells and curses before walking around, eyeing each other once more. The man seemed unsure of himself, but then suddenly felt confident as he lashed out with a few nasty curses.

Ron dodged them by jumping and rolling off to his left while firing a few spells of his own, one of which caught the man's leg, sending him crashing down on the floor in agony. His knee had been violently torn from its socket as the joint-tearing curse did its damage. He howled in pain as Ron, with a satisfied smirk, stunned the man.

He turned then, hoping to go get the Aurors, but another stranger was there, wand pointed into Ron's chest. Pain suddenly swept across his skin, from his fingertips to his toes. He fought it, but it had been a long time since he had fought the crutacious. He fell to his knees and eventually dropped his wand, but he had yet to emit a sound.

"You still got it in you, eh? Well, save your strength for later, boy. We're not done with you yet," he said and then a red light engulfed him and Ron knew no more.

* * *

**AN: **And so it continues. :)


	3. Forgotten History

**General Note: **Thanks once again to those who reviewed. :)

**DISCLAIMER: **Own Harry Potter, I do NOT.

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**Forgotten History**_

* * *

_August 16, 2007  
California State Magical Council Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Hermione had the image, or at least the general outline, of the dragon clear in her mind and she was set on researching it in the library of the Council. It was indeed a species of dragon that she had never seen before, which threw gas onto the flame that was her curiosity. She wanted to know what it was, what it could do, and what it has done. She also wanted to know why there were no written documents of this species of dragon or why they chose to appear at this moment.

Her report to the Council was in two days and she would need all of that time to get most of the facts as concrete as possible. The Council, after all, did not want to mobilize unless everything was clear and factual, and she was sure that they had to mobilize to prevent the situation from getting any worse.

She entered the abandoned building, or so it seemed to the muggles anyway, and went to the bathroom on the far side of the main lobby. She went over to each of the sinks and turned all of the knobs before opening the door to the last stall. No water came out, but the sound of clicking machinery and magic swirling around her announced that something was about to happen.

Sure enough, the toilet in the last stall sunk into the ground, disappearing, and along with it came the wall it was attached to. A small opening opened, then, and Hermione walked through it, feeling the barriers and wards checking her magical signature before allowing her entrance into the CSMC headquarters. She shook her head, most of the wards were old and weak, mostly because there had not been any attacks on them for many years.

Hermione, however, remembered the teachings of one of her old mentors and friends. Constant vigilance. Never, ever, let down your guard, because the darkness can never be defeated, it can only be beaten back so far that it will take many years to return, and she had a feeling that the darkness was returning once more.

Three Aurors stood watch over the main entrance and they nodded to her as she passed. They were big men, strong, but she had dueled with them and they were not particularly skilled in dueling. They were nice guys though, she would give them that.

She wove her way through the building, passing numerous wizards and witches, some of whom greeted her while others didn't even bother. She wasn't as well known as in England, which is one of the reasons why she had left. She could have had anything and done anything she wanted in England, but that was not the life she wanted. She wanted to work hard and be rewarded for it.

Granted, helping to defeat Voldemort and to save the Wizarding World was something she worked hard at and sacrificed for, but that did not mean that everything after that should be handed to her just because of it. It was very complicated, but at the moment she did not want to think about that and so started processing the information in her head again.

There were at least two of them, possibly more. She first had to find out what they were. The library was a considerable size, enough that she could probably find something pertaining to what she wanted to know. Hopefully.

"Hermione, dear! Back so soon? I thought you had two more days?" asked Cheryl, the librarian. She was a wonderfully nice old witch, thin and bony, with curly white hair and large glasses that reminded Hermione of Professor Trelawney.

"I do, Cheryl, but I have a lot to research. This is more complicated than I thought it would be."

"Well, dear, what do you need?"

"Can you give me everything on American Magical History and also on Dragons, please?" she asked, smiling thankfully.

Cheryl nodded, though she seemed a little bewildered at that, "That's going to be a lot of books, my dear. But I'll get right on it," she said as she flicked her wand and books started zooming towards them.

After about twenty books had arrived, Hermione decided to get started and told Cheryl to send the rest of the books to the table next to the one she was using for the first twenty books. As a precaution, she strengthened the legs of the tables with magic before setting herself up for the task.

She put out some parchment, a quill and some ink, and also a little notebook and opened the first book. It was going to be a long two days.

* * *

_Somewhere in Tibet..._

Harry felt the slight presence of the stranger watching him as he woke up. He was not sure if the stranger could see through his tent, which he doubted, but the stranger had not moved since yesterday. He felt a little uneasy about it, but did not want to let on that he knew he was being watched. Not yet, anyway.

He stretched, yawning mightily, and got dressed. After his clothes were on properly he stepped out of his tent. With a slight gesture of his hand, the firepit burst to life. Bending over, he started to stretch and do his morning workout, just as the sun began to poke its head over the horizon. It was a beautiful sight to behold. The sky was incredibly clear, save for a few stray clouds clinging hastily to the mountains, as if afraid to disappear into the wind like their brethren.

The pink, orange, yellow, and red of the rising sun fighting against the darkness as Harry continued his morning routine. After about half an hour, the sun well over the horizon, Harry sat down to eat some breakfast, completely in tune with his surroundings. He sensed that one of the trees was about to die and he also sensed that the stranger watching him had moved to a different branch of the tree it was on.

Eating hungrily, he finished his breakfast quickly. He had a long hike back to the temple and he wanted to get there before dark. It took him barely five minutes to gobble down his food before packing up his things with a few waves of his hand. Harry cast warming spells on himself and then cancelled the warming wards and protective wards that he had placed on the area.

The cold, wind suddenly made itself known as it roared through the previously tranquil space. It buffeted Harry for a moment, but he trudged on, the warming charm helping him against the elements. The eagle soared into the air, getting lost up into the clouds where Harry had no doubts it was watching him. He still wondered who it could be or why he was being watched, but even though he felt a little uneasy about it he had not felt any bad vibes from the stranger. It didn't seem to want to harm him, or at least that's what his gut and his senses told him.

He had been wrong before and he did not want to make any mistakes again. The last time he made mistakes, lives were lost and friendships strained. He would not have that happen again, he would make sure of it.

* * *

It took hours for him to get within sight of the temple. He chanced a glance up and his magically enhanced vision spotted a dark speck in the sky. The eagle had indeed followed him. He looked slowly around, trying to make it look as if he had not seen the eagle, and then continued forward. He would have gone into his animagus form but he did not want to reveal that to the stranger that was watching him. 

The walk had made him think of the past. The past that he wanted to forget and yet could not. It had shaped him, changed him, and made him what he was that day. A strange man in an already strange world. Perhaps it was for the best, but he regretted many things. He regretted leaving his friends and his family, but he did not want to face them after all the suffering and pain caused by him not defeating Voldemort sooner. The mistakes he made that had cost lives, especially the ones dear to him.

He had never forgiven himself, he had never forgotten. He had only forced himself to not think of it, to think of other things. Harry had thrown himself into his training, into his studies and his pursuit to be stronger. He was weak then, but he would not be so any longer. He had learned that now, the hard way. The childhood he had tried to cling, the peaceful and normal life he wanted, they were all but dreams that he could not fulfill. Destiny had other plans for him, fate would not let him do what he so wanted to do.

He had no idea how true that was and how soon fate would thrust evil into the world once more.

* * *

_August 16, 2007  
Weasley Estate, outside Devon, England  
7:21 am_

"Ron?? Ron?? Are you home? Ron!!!" called Ginny as she stepped into the entrance hall.

The lights flickered to life as she entered, but other than that no life stirred. It was as if there was no one home.

"Ronnnn!!" she called out, using the sonorus spell to amplify her voice, which echoed all throughout the estate.

Five minutes later, with no reply, Ginny quickly ran towards the kitchens. She entered it and her eyes turned hard and cold as she pursed her lips tightly. There, on the floor, were the five house elves of the estate. She did not yell, nor did she weep, though she wanted to as fear coursed through her veins. She kept her composure, her experience from the last Great War having taught her how to control her emotions, to become cold and controlled under pressure.

Before leaving, she remembered the clock. The one that could tell where everyone was, or their general state anyway. It had been a long time since any of them had looked at it, a number of hands had been removed and a number had been added, which was one of the reasons why no one really looked at it anymore. It reminded them of the past, the one before the war started.

The hand with Ron's name on it was in 'Mortal Peril', which made Ginny breathe out in relief but also heightened her fear.

She knew she had to alert the Aurors, the Ministry, and then anyone else that could help. Screaming and crying in the corner would help no one, she had learned that in the war. They all had. Adrenaline rushed through her as she ran upstairs, a slight hope that maybe he had fought and maybe he was still there, unconscious, but alive. Why did the house have to be so big? She cursed Ron's desire to have an enormous house as her legs pumped as fast as she could.

Ginny skidded to a stop in front of the large wooden doors of the master bedroom. The doors were opened, slightly, and she gently pushed them open more. Her eyes quickly darted to the bed, where the blanket had been thrown off. A burn mark and a hole on the bed were the only signs of a struggle. Taking a closer look at the room, she noticed that one of the windows was broken and that some of the furniture had fallen over. Burn marks dotted the walls and floor and there was some dried blood on the floor.

Deciding not to dirty the scene any more with her presence, she left the room quickly, heading towards one of the apparition spots in the house. First stop, the Ministry.

* * *

_Temple of the Heavens, Tibet..._

Harry smiled as he was greeted by the two guards outside the entrance to the temple. They wore old battle armor, though of course it was magically preserved and enhanced, it was merely the appearence of it that made it look weak and old. After all, deception is a useful tool, especially in battle. The gates of the temple opened of their own accord as he approached and more guards were waiting behind it.

They greeted him and saluted, actions that he returned with a smile. He wondered what the stranger would do now that he was inside, but brushed the thought to the side as he was approached by one of the elder monks.

"Greetings, young one. You have arrived just in time, Dorjee wishes to see you," said the elder, smiling and showing more gum than teeth.

Harry smiled back at him and bowed, as was customary, "Then I shall go see him, master. Where is it that he can be found?"

"He walks the eastern ramparts," replied the monk before walking away, slowly but purposefully.

Harry looked after him for a moment, wondering what the great elder monk wanted to speak to him about.

"I guess it's better to just ask him," he whispered to himself as he started walking in the direction of the eastern part of the temple.

The elder was right and the great elder monk Dorjee stood, his old hands placed firmly on top of the stone guardwall of the rampart. He was looking out upon another beautiful sight, a small valley created by the mountains. Low clouds obscured some of it and made it look mysterious and yet captivating as tall trees broke through the blanket of the fog. The full moon shining its silver light upon the world in great clarity as the stars twinkled majestically in the heavens, watching Earth from above.

Harry took a moment to observe him. He was very old, the oldest living member of the temple, his friends having passed long ago. Dorjee used to be a great warrior, before he decided to live a life of peace and to live away from the troubles of the world. His name, which means thunderbolt, suited him perfectly for he was quick of mind and could strike with power if need be, even in his old age. Yet his power was waning, a sign that the end was coming for him.

Harry pondered that perhaps that was why he was calling him. He had spent much of his time at the temple under the tutelage of Dorjee, who had once known and taught Dumbledore when the great wizard was young. It was this thought that led him to realize just how old Dorjee was, but his thoughts were interrupted when Dorjee turned around, slowly, and smiled.

"Will you be standing there all night, Harry?" asked the old man in a firm voice, loud enough to carry over the distance between them.

Harry shook his head and smiled sheepishly as he walked towards the old man, who once more turned back to the scenery before him. He stood next to Dorjee, placing his hands behind his back as he looked out, waiting for the old monk to speak. They stood there for a while, silence enveloping them, before Dorjee finally spoke.

"The world is so beautiful a place, is it not?" he asked, surprising Harry with the question.

"Yes, yes of course. It is quite beautiful," he replied quickly as he looked out at the view before them, as if to emphasize this.

"Yet even in all it's beauty, there is a darkness somewhere, waiting to tear it down. Waiting for the opportune moment to strike so as to cause the most destruction, the most damage," he continued.

Harry shifted uneasily, though he remained stolid. He was not sure where this was going. He had no clue whatsoever.

"Did I ever tell you that Albus was, for a time, quite voracious? More than he usually was, in any case. When he learned that his power was considerable, his thirst to increase and maximize that power grew exponentially, day by day. I feared for him, then. I tried to reason with him, but he became quite pugnacious about it when I confronted him," he chuckled for a bit, pausing, his eyes far away as he relived the memories of his time with Dumbledore. "He was a very adroit wizard, extremely capable and very intelligent, but even in all his intelligence, darkness tried to take hold of him. He most certainly considered going down the path that he declared he would never go down, the path that would ultimately lead to becoming the next Dark Lord."

Harry looked at him, confused and yet intrigued by this late night storytelling.

"You see, earlier in his life, his family had been attacked by a roving band of bad wizards. It was a rare occurence, but it happened to some people back in those days. His father was killed and his sister seriously injured, so much so that she was impaired both mentally and physically. It wounded Albus very much, because he loved his family with a passion, nearly as much as he loved learning and magic at the time," Dorjee's voice suddenly became a whisper. "He vowed to fight evil after the incident, to help make the world a better, brighter place. To clear away the darkness and to stop such tragedies from happening."

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say, though he doubted Dorjee was looking at him anyway, he felt like he needed to do something.

"That was when he threw himself into his studies, much as you have, and soon became immersed so greatly in them that he lost himself for a while. The power that he acquired, the knowledge that he possessed and added to with each passing day grew and grew... until we intervened. His mother, his brother, myself, the other monks... we confronted him then, before it became too late.." he trailed off, "We told him that power was not everything. That he could stop all evil alone, that he needed others that were capable, friends and allies."

Harry understood then, what he was driving at. He looked at himself and reviewed the past few years. He had, indeed, thrown himself at his studies, spending nearly every waking moment practicing, studying, and training. For days on end he would train, until exhaustion finally caught up with him and brought him to bed, though only for a few hours, before he willed himself to work once more.

He had been thinking of doing everything himself. He did not want to involve any more of his loved ones for fear of losing them once more. At least if it was only him, the mistake and the punishment of that mistake would be his and his alone.

Dorjee turned to him, smiling sadly, "Alas, even I thought that way once," he said, "When I was young and strong... when I felt invincible. I thought I could take on anything and everything, alone, without the need to put those that I cared about in danger. Yet the harm I caused by doing so eventually become so great that I could not continue on. They loved me as much as I loved them and they did not want me to take away their freedom, their choice, to fight alongside me and to help me."

"I... I have been thinking along those lines... for a while," Harry admitted, looking up at the stars as they twinkled, unconcerned with the happenings of the world that watched them.

"I thought as much."

"But... I do not want them to sacrifice themselves for me, master. I want to sacrifice myself for them, if necessary, but I cannot bear to see them lost because of me.. I have already been the cause of much suffering and pain, I do not want to do so again."

Dorjee placed his old hand firmly on Harry's shoulder. Their eyes met, both of them glowing slightly. "Do they not feel the same way? Is it not that they would want you not to sacrifice yourself for them? Do you think that they would not mourn your loss if you died for them? That they would not blame themselves for it either? And is it not their choice, not yours, to do that?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had not really thought about the fact that they may be thinking along the same lines as he was. He looked out, again, to the valley, the mountains. Dorjee was right, yet he did not want to admit it. He still felt that what he was doing was the best, that he cared more about their lives than he cared about his, but then what if they cared more about him than they did themselves as well? He would be hurting them by not letting them be with him until the end.

"Every hero, every legend, every war... all of it has been fought with more than one man. There are not only two characters in a story or in a play. There are many of them, some more important than others, but there is not only one who can shoulder it all and face it all. Even heroes need a hand, no matter how strong or how smart you are. The true strength of a person lies not with his own powers, but with those of his friends," said Dorjee, taking his hand of Harry's shoulder and putting it back onto the stone guard wall.

"I understand. It's just that I..." but Dorjee cut him off.

"I know, I know. It happens to more people than you can imagine. You just have to remember that you are not the sole fighter in this universal war between good and evil. Did it not take the efforts of all your friends and allies to take down Voldemort? Did it not take the efforts of Albus and his own friends and allies to defeat Grindelwald? Sure, you dueled the final battle with Voldemort. Sure, Albus dueled Grindelwald at the end, but before that, the majority of the time, did you not have friends there to help you fight? Even Grindelwald and Voldemort have supporters, and you can count on any evil lords of any sort to have such supporters," said Dorjee, his tone a little sad, as if lamenting the state of the world.

He was right yet again. Harry nodded, mentally smacking himself. He had been thinking wrong all these years. He had left to be stronger so that the next time his friends would not need to fight and endanger themselves, but now he realized that they had to be there. They needed him to be strong and also to be safe as much as he wanted them to be strong and safe. Dorjee was right.

"Now, I have something far more important, and far more troubling to tell you, Harry..." Dorjee spoke, his voice suddenly grave.

* * *

_August 17, 2007  
California State Magical Council Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_  
_5:32am_

Hermione's head was wobbling over the page as her eyelids threatened to close on her eyes. She shook her head, blinking rapidly, before staring at the page once more. She had gone through so many books in so short a time, yet most of the information she had gleaned from them were useless to her. She turned the page and was shocked at what she saw.

A picture of a large dragon with black scales and red eyes, with spikes numbering in the hundreds. Fire was breathing out of its mouth and its large claws gripped what looked like human bodies. It was then that she realized that it was standing upon a mountain of bones and bodies, triumphant.

She shuddered involuntarily at the image before looking at the caption beneath it.

_Obsidian Dragon_

She looked at the page opposite the image, but what she found was a page on another topic. She opened the book more and looked at the inside seam, stretching the book open until she finally saw what she was hoping to find. There was a very small piece of the page that was previously there still attached to the book. Someone had ripped it out, either because they had been searching for it before or they did not want anyone to know about it.

The mental image from the man's memory matched the look of the dragon, but she was unsure. Either way, this was a dragon she had never seen or heard of before, which was surprising in and of itself because dragons were a popular topic in the wizarding world. It would explain why, even in the light of the fires, the dragons were not seen too clearly, but the survivor saw them from a distance and so she could not verify exactly.

"Awake at this hour, Ms. Granger?" asked an old and weary voice that she knew well.

"Lord Grenville! What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised as she placed the book upon the crowded table.

"Oh, I could not sleep and so decided to come early today. What, may I ask, are you doing here at this hour?" replied the tall, old man, taking a seat across from Hermione.

"Well sir, you know about the fires that have been plaguing California, I assume?"

Grenville nodded.

"I've been to many of the sources of the fires and nearly all of them has had a trace of magic associated with them, the most recent one being very strong. I eventually analyzed the magical signatures and am certain of only one thing so far, that dragons are behind the fires, or at least most of them."

Grenville raised a thick gray eyebrow at that, his teal eyes twinkling. "Dragons, you say? What kind?" he asked, stroking his thin, but long, gray beard.

"That, I am not sure of exactly. Did you know that there is no record of any dragon native to North America?"

Grenville nodded, "Yes, I was aware of it, but I didn't think much of it."

"Then let's think about it, sir, if you will. There are dragons native to South America, the more famous one being the Peruvian Vipertooth, mostly because it is more common. There are many dragons in Europe, where historians and scholars believe dragons first originated," Grenville nodded for her to continue, "Then there are dragons in Asia, though not as documented, the more famous species being the Chinese Fireball. Then there are dragons from Oceania as well."

Grenville nodded again, a slight frown forming on his lips.

"Well, sir, do you not find it strange that there are no dragons, supposedly, that are native to North America? Do you not find that the least bit odd that there would be no dragons here if there are dragons in nearly all other continents?" she asked him, leaning forward and whispering as if someone would overhear them.

"Well, what if they are just not documented well? You have intriguing and curious observations, my dear, but are you not also forgetting Africa? As far as I am aware, there are no dragons there today," he said, frowning.

"Yes, but there were many years ago. I've read about the few species that were there, but they were not very populous and the wide and open spaces in Africa proved to conceal them well from the people, especially since they were not overly agressive as some dragons are. Yet there are no historical documents pointing to dragons existing in North America, unlike in Africa," Hermione explained, "How could they not be well documented? The Native Americans lived here long before the English arrived, and they would have seen some dragons at least. It has been hundreds of years and yet in all that time there have been no recorded sightings of dragons here? Aside from the ones that were brought in from other places, of course."

Grenville leaned back in his chair. He looked uncomfortable at the idea that there were dragons loose, dragons that no one knew about, but the facts were chillingly suspicious. Why would there be no dragons here? There existed dragons in every other continent. There is even talk about some ice dragons down in the arctics, but no one knows for sure yet. How could the dragons not come to North America when they went to South America??

"I am assuming, then, that you found something?" he asked, looking down now at the book on the table.

Hermione smiled and nodded, pushing the book towards the elderly lord, who took it in his hands and looked at the picture with a mixture of fear and awe.

"I'm not exactly sure if that is the dragon that is plaguing California, but I do know one thing, I was lucky to find it. There have been no mention of dragons at all in any books I've read about the history of the magical community in North America. Not until I got to this book, but even then there is information missing. Information that was deliberately taken out of the book," she said, a little angry about the ripped page. She showed him what she had found and he placed the book on the table carefully, clearing his throat.

"I dare say you are on to something, my dear. This is disturbing news, very disturbing. If it's taken them this long to come out, that means someone must have had them and taken care of them. Someone must be controlling them somehow," said Grenville, stroking his beard again.

"This little piece of history was supposed to be forgotten. I'm not sure why, but I believe that whatever the reason, it's not good. Not good at all," she said, her eyes flashing fear for a moment before disappearing.

Grenville stood and nodded, "Have you told the council?" he asked.

"Not yet, sir. Tomorrow is the day I am due to report, that should give me some time to gather more information. I've only just scratched the surface of this mystery, I believe there is a lot more to it."

"Then I shall impede you no further. This talk of ours was enlightening and yet distrubing and I will keep my thoughts to myself until you have told the council so as not to spoil your information beforehand. Be quick though, my dear, I fear that it may be too late once the Council decides to do something about it, if indeed there is something to do about it," Grenville told her as he stood. He nodded to her and they bade goodbye to each other before he left, leaving Hermione to ponder on the information she had found out.

She looked at the image again and then at the name. She had never heard of it before, but it looked evil and the name had a fearful effect, it definitely suited what the dragon would have to be in her mind to be in league with evil wizards, if indeed they were behind this. But why cover up this little piece of forgotten history? What purpose did it serve?

* * *

**AN: **Wow, that was long. 


	4. Daemons

**General Note: **The story is going to be a little slow for now, not much action yet. All will be explained soon. Characters will be acknowledged to be either dead or alive (so don't assume yet!) and I'm still considering flashbacks, but I don't really like them that much. Maybe just a few lines of the other characters thinking about them and the last time they saw them, perhaps. New characters who are important to the plot are coming up. Stay tuned. Thanks for the reviews. Any criticisms and suggestions are welcome. The short segments are going to become less and less, I just want to update you on everyone's status.. we'll be shifting to longer POV later on.

**DISCLAIMER: **Harry Potter is... not mine. :(

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**Daemons**_

* * *

_August 17, 2007  
London, England  
1:16pm  
_

The Ministry of Magic had been destroyed, or at least much of it had been, during Voldemort's final days. Fierce battles raged for days on end until the Ministry had crumbled within itself, many of the levels not even recognizable any longer. The remaining aurors fought with strength and valor and eventually help arrived in the form of the Golden Trio and the Order, along with Potter's Army, organized by the founding members of the original Dumbledore's Army.

The Ministry was completely revamped and redesigned so as to provide excellent defense so that another assault on it would not end in its destruction once again. New levels had been added and new, stronger protections were raised. The Ministry even went so far as to bring in a dragon, which would be released in the event that the first level was taken by the enemy.

With hundreds dead, the Ministry lacked sufficient manpower, but with the help of the Trio and their friends, they were able to recruit the survivors. International aid suddenly arrived once victory was announced. Those who had fled while there was still time to do so began to return. Wizards and witches from other countries also began to flock to England, suddenly realizing that perhaps it was the safest place to be, especially with the Trio, the Order, and the stronger leadership shown by the new Minister, Tiberius Scoller.

He succeeded Madam Bones as Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement when she had been promoted and voted to become Minister during the war. Upon her death, a successor had to be named and he rose to the challenge. It was this man that had helped to return the magical community of England to its former power and wealth in the world, taking all these years to do so.

Yet he was not smiling today.

"Are you certain of this?" he asked, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out of the enchanted window, a beautiful, sunny day greeting him as he did so.

"Yes, Minister. Lord Weasley's sister reported it herself, about two hours ago," reported Hendrik Lobbedien, his new Director of the DMLE.

"Two hours ago?? Why was I not told beforehand? What are you doing about it? Do the press know?" Tiberus asked, clearly unsettled.

"Well, Minister, we sent over a team to check the scene first. We wanted to make sure it was real. The Auror who was put in charge of the case thought it unlikely and thought that Lord Weasley had, perhaps, merely left without telling anyone," clarified Hendrik, "But it appears that it's true. Lord Weasley was indeed attacked in his own residence and he was taken. We are unsure of whether or not he is alive and I've assigned my top Aurors to the case. The press... do not know... yet. I'm sure it will be in the papers by the end of the week."

Minister Tiberius Scoller thought to himself about the implications of this surprising event. It would look bad for England, first of all, because one of its heroes had been kidnapped and attacked on English soil. It would look bad on him because he had personally ordered that Aurors keep watch on the Weasley Estate, mainly because Lord Weasley had not hired any guards to protect him.

He had broached the subject, but Lord Weasley did not consider nor fancy the idea that there were still people out there that might want to harm him. It was understandable, of course, but there was always evil out there, somewhere. He turned around, fixing a hard gaze on Hendrik. "I want constant updates and I want you to use any resources available to us to find him and bring him back, alive. He is an important man, as you may very well know, and his loss would be a blow to the Ministry. Try to keep this out of the papers for as long as you can. I'll get in contact with the other Ministers and inform them, quietly, of the matter, and perhaps ask for their assistance. After all, Lord Weasley is not only important to us, but to all those who he helped save from the clutches of Voldemort," said Tiberius, his tall six-foot-three frame towering over the seated Hendrik.

"It shall be done, Minister," acknowleged Hendrik, who stood and bade him goodbye before leaving, closing the door gently.

Tiberius sat down heavily on his chair, thankful that it was so soft and comfortable. He leaned back, placing his hands across his chest as he debated on who would do such a thing and why. It was not an easy thing to do to take out Lord Weasley like that, which meant they caught him by surprise. It was definitely not just a random attack. Something was happening, something that smelled of evil, and he didn't like it one bit.

He reached for a pot on his desk, which was filled with the finest floo powder. He would have to make some firecalls to the other Ministers and inform them of the situation immediately. Time was of the essence, for all he knew Lord Weasley may be out of the country already.

* * *

_August 17, 2007  
City of Exter, Devon, England_

Ron groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. His head was throbbing and it hurt, along with the rest of his body. For a moment he could not remember where he was or what had happened recently, but then it all came rushing back to him and fear and anger ripped through him almost immediately.

He opened his eyes, but found only darkness to greet him. He had a blindfold on or it was dark. Ron tried to move but could not and it was then that he noticed that his legs and were tied together rather tightly and that his arms were bound behind his back. He could roll across the floor, but it was uncomfortable and it made him feel dizzy, so he resolved to just lay down there for the moment and think.

_Think Ron, think!_ he thought as he shook his head, trying to get some idea to pop up into his head. It had been a long time since he had been captured like this, but he was not bound back then and he also had friends searching for him. Now, he was not as sure whether or not anyone was looking for him. Hell, they probably did not even know he was missing and they probably would not know until someone eventually came over to check, which could be the day after or the week after, or maybe when he was long dead.

The thought of dying jolted his mind and made him go back to trying to think of a way to get out of his present situation. He could smell damp, stale air. There was also a heaviness to it, which meant he was probably underground, hidden from sight and from hearing. It was then that he thought of shouting, but he found that his mouth had been magically sealed because he could not open it.

Frustrated, he rolled over once more, only to be rewarded by hitting the wall with his shoulder, hard. He grimaced in pain as he tried to think of a way out. There was always a way out.

* * *

_Temple of the Heavens, Tibet_

"Do you remember the tale of _The_ _Great Spirits_?" asked Dorjee, who turned and started walking.

Harry told him that he had heard of it, walking with the elder.

"Harry, what if I told you they are real? What if I told you that, at this very moment, these spirits are alive. They are amongst us, beneath, above... surrounding us... and yet separate."

"I... I would not believe you," Harry replied truthfully. How could it be true? Sure, there were ghosts and ghouls and all sorts of ethereal things that were real, but the spirits that Dorjee spoke of could not be real. It was impossible!

These spirits, or daemons as they are also called in the story, once roamed the world in peace and harmony. That was, until one day, a band of the demons wanted to take over everything, to control everything, and to increase their powers. That was when the Great War of Spirits began. Countless daemons died, millions of them, until there were only few factions remaining, and those were the most powerful of the Spirits. On one side were the daemons of Light, Water, Sky, and Life. The other side, the ones that began the War, consisted of the daemons of Shadow, Flame, Earth, and Death. For thousands of years, they've waged their eternal war against each other, and on rare occasions these wars spread and influenced the race of men, inciting great wars until one side finally widthrew, allowing the world to return to its previously peaceful state.

"I expected as much, but I assure you, Harry, they are quite real. More real than you can possibly imagine. It has long been our task to watch out for these daemons, to help protect humanity against the spreading of their war into our lives. Recently," he paused, but then continued, as if setting things straight in his mind, "Recently, we have observed disturbing signs... gathering dark energies in certain areas of the world, though extremely well concealed, have been sighted. The future is dark and unclear and already we sense the powers of the spirits spilling once more over the barrier that they themselves erected to keep themselves separate from us. I fear that another great battle between them has come."

Harry still could not find it in himself to believe this... nonsense. He could not grasp how it was possible to have these daemons, these spirits here on earth. The very idea of such powerful beings made Harry feel slightly nervous and unsettled.

Dorjee suddenly turned, his eyes aglow and a smile on his lips, "You do not believe me still."

Harry nodded.

"It is understandable," replied the elder, still smiling, "So would you like to see proof then?"

Twenty minutes later, they had gone far into the deep caverns of the mountain that were long ago carved out by the monks. It was lit brightly by many torches, and that was when Harry realized he had never truly seen the magnitude of the monks' operation here. There were hundreds of them down in these caverns, many of them fully armed. An entire army, hidden from the world. Harry suddenly began to think that perhaps Dorjee had not gone mad. Could it be?

A large iron gate, out of place amongst these great halls of stone, barred their way. Flanking it were a dozen soldiers, armed with swords, spears, shields and dressed in full battle armor that gleamed in the torchlight. They bowed low upon seeing Dorjee, who gestured at the gate with his hand.

The ground trembled, like a herd of stampeding elephants were about to be set loose upon them. In moments the gate had opened and they were through, accompanied by half of the guards.

A large underground lake stretched for what seemed like a mile as a strange light glowed from deep within the water, illuminating everything. Torches surrounded them but did not go any further than near the entrance, and neither did the guards. Dorjee beckoned him to follow as he walked on, closer to the shore of the lake.

"Prepare yourself, Harry," he said before yelling, "ALIMAS!"

His voice echoed throughout the enormous cavern, shaking the ground slightly. That was when the light that glowed from all parts of the water suddenly receded, as if being sucked into one place. A bright ball of light shone from underneath the surface of the lake in front of them, where all the light seemed to be flowing towards.

A few seconds later, the ball of light suddenly lifted itself out of the water with a tremendous splash. The ball was a bright blue color and glowed brilliantly, so much so that Harry had to shield his eyes for a moment, before the light dimmed. It was then that he noticed that the ball was shifting into the form of a man, and indeed it became one.

Alimas placed his feet on the surface of the lake and walked across the water towards the shore. Bright blue light shimmered all throughout his bluish frame, as if his skin was almost moving, always shifting positions.

"Alimas, I would like you to meet Harry Potter, our most promising student. Harry, this is Alimas, a daemon of water," introduced Dorjee.

"Greetings, young one, and to you as well, elder Dorjee," Alimas spoke, his voice low and booming, carrying across the cavern and echoing.

"H-H-Hello, s-sir," said Harry, who felt suddenly nervous.

Alimas stood well over eight feet tall, in his human form, and Harry could feel powerful magic oozing off of him.

"What business is it, elder Dorjee, that brings you here?"

"We have... recently observed signs that the Fallen are possibly mobilizing. The barrier is weakening once more, perhaps for good this time, for the daemon magic is stronger in the very air now," said Dorjee, clasping his hands together behind his back.

At the mention of the word Fallen, Harry noticed that Alimas' eyes twitched slightly and, if possible, he tensed. That was probably the name of the side that had started the war.

"Mobilizing you say?" Alimas asked, "I shall find out what my brethren know. If you would wait a moment," Alimas replied soon after, "Long has it been since I have had the need to speak with them."

With that, he dove back into the water and his light became smaller and weaker as he went deeper into the lake.

"They do not talk much to each other?" asked Harry, puzzled at that. He would have thought that they would be in close contact with one another, especially since they have a war to fight.

"Oh no, they do.. most of them do. There are some, such as Alimas, who prefer isolation. Unless, of course, there is a need for them, such as another battle with the Fallen," replied the elder, smiling at Harry in amusement, though Harry could tell he was not feeling well.

The light came rushing back all of a sudden, before Alimas burst out of the water. He looked troubled and unsettled to Harry, though it was hard to tell since the constant movement of the particles in the daemon's body made it difficult to discern facial expressions.

"My brethren say that there have been some sightings of Shadow Legions... a recent assault on an outpost known to have Earth daemons proved fruitless. The outpost was abandoned, no doubt they are gathering their forces at the moment before they strike. They have a head start on us and we have become lax all these years, it may take some time before our full strength is mustered. If they attacked now, we would be finished," said Alimas, his voice slightly weaker, as if fear gripped at his throat.

"You are mobilizing now, then?" asked Dorjee.

"Indeed. The call has been sent, but it will be many days before all of us are assembled. Messages are being relayed to the other daemons as we speak. We have you to thank for confirming this suspicion," said Alimas, who bowed his head slightly.

Dorjee nodded, "I shall have my men prepare and send some of them out then. I fear we are closer to the battle than we might think."

"It is a fear that we both share, then."

Harry shifted slightly, causing both men to look at him.

"Perhaps, Alimas, you can keep Harry company for a while as I assemble my own troops?" asked Dorjee, who turned slightly, about to head off.

Alimas looked at Harry for a while, and Harry felt his eyes scanning him and felt the magic of the daemon suddenly course through him.

The daemon nodded, "Your magic is considerable... indeed... I have heard much about you, Harry Potter. Come, tell me more" he said.

Harry returned the daemon's gaze and nodded back, unsure of what to say.

Dorjee left then, accompanied by the guards, leaving Harry alone with Alimas. It was an unnerving situation for Harry, but curiosity overcame his nervousness.

"But first, I will answer your questions, if any... I am sure that your mind is teeming with them."

"Well.. what... what can you do?" Harry suddenly asked, regretting it as it made him sound silly and naive, but he could not take it back so he kept silent.

Alimas chuckled, a deep throaty chuckle, before he waved his hand and a bright blue glow emanated from it. A small glowing blue circle formed on the surface of the lake before morphing into a hand. As Alimas moved his hand, so did the water-hand move, following his every movement.

As another demonstration, Alimas dove into the water and created a large water tornado.

"Any further questions?" Alimas asked, amused by the expression of awe on Harry's face.

"How do daemon's die?" he blurted out, once more regretting asking that.

Alimas walked towards Harry then, stopping a few inches in front of Harry. "We are ageless, immortal in a sense, but we can die... much like you can die, but a little harder. It takes great magic to kill us, but it is possible... your.. killing curse, I believe, can harm us greatly, but not truly kill us unless hit multiple times."

Harry nodded, "Can we learn your magic? How many of you are there? Why hide from the world?"

Alimas didn't speak for a while, as if contemplating whether to answer the questions, but he did, "It is possible, yes, to learn our magic. Elementals are very close to our form of magic and one has even become a daemon through his great use and proficiency with daemon magic. I believe you know of him as... Merlin?"

"That explains why he disappeared..." Harry said, mostly to himself.

"Indeed, he is still alive today and is a great leader amongst the daemons of Light, but in response to your next question, there are few of us... too few of us. There was once a day when we numbered as much as the humans, but now we number only a few million, that is including the Fallen. It is hard to... have offspring, as a daemon, and it takes many years, which is why killing another daemon is considered a very grave offense. We hide from the world because if they knew of our existence, we would be hunted, like animals, and caught... our numbers are too few and even with our greater powers we cannot fight all the world... not if all the world came crashing down upon us."

Alimas walked away slightly, looking out onto the lake.

"Can you teach me?" asked Harry, his voice barely a whisper.

* * *

_August 18, 2007  
California State Magical Council Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Hermione finished explaining her findings to the council. The room was dark as the image of the dragon glowed on the wall. The council murmured amongst themselves, deeply troubled by her findings, thoug there were some skeptics.

"Miss Granger, the council will now convene to discuss the matter. If you would please exit the chamber, we will call you in once a consensus has been decided," said the leader of the council.

Hermione nodded and left the chamber, sitting on a bench positioned right outside for such a purpose. She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. She had found nothing else on the Obsidian Dragon and her inquiries to magical universities and other State Councils had proved fruitless. There was no information on them anywhere.

A full hour later, Hermione had drifted off into sleep before she was shaken awake by one of the council attendants.

"Miss, miss! They are calling for you," said the young boy, blushing slightly.

Hermione thanked him and paused for a moment to stretch before heading inside the council chamber. She walked towards the pulpit and waited for the council to inform her of their decision. The chamber was quiet as all eyes watched her as she walked. She ignored their looks and speculated on what they had decided to do. They must do something about it, after all. Loose dragons and unknown strangers was a dangerous mix.

"Miss Granger, this council has decided to investigate the matter further and to utilize any means necessary to get to the bottom of this mystery. However," the leader paused, "this does not mean that we are going to use violent means. We are to use any peaceful and diplomatic means necessary, for now. A later decision will be made based on information gathered from this second inquiry. We thank you for your work, as always. You are dismissed."

Hermione nodded and walked towards the door, though she felt disappointed and somewhat angry. Another inquiry? Sure, that was a good step and she understood that they must know more about it, but she had worked so hard to find other information and she had found none. Not to say that the investigative skills of the other were not good, but if she could not find much, she very much doubted that they would find anything at all.

"Stupid!" she hissed, shaking her head as she walked towards her quarters.

* * *

_Elsewhere..._

"They have begun to suspect, sir," spoke the cloaked figure into the darkness.

A voice spoke from the shadows in response, "Then eliminate them. Nothing must interfere. We are so close..."

"And the girl?"

"She is more of a danger to us than we thought. Dispose of her," came the reply.

"As you wish."

* * *

**AN: **Hmmm.. Sorry it took so long... but I was just so busy. Happy Holidays everyone! 


	5. Fight or Flight

**General Note: **A grave mistake of mine, forgive me. Yes, Ron was representing England in the WC. About the daemons, we'll see. :)

**DISCLAIMER: **Harry Potter is... still not mine.. must I do this every chapter?!?! heh.

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**Fight or Flight**_

* * *

_August 18, 2007  
Temple of the Heavens, Tibet_

Dorjee, Harry, and Alimas met again the next day, this time without the guards standing at the entrance. Dorjee had ordered his men to reinforce the numerous outposts scattered around the globe. The army was larger now than ever before and they would need every warrior to help stave off the overflow fighting of the daemons.

"How long before you are battle ready?" asked Dorjee, pacing around the shore of the lake. Light sparkled and danced around them from the torches and from Alimas' blue glow, making it feel a little surreal.

"It is hard to say. The other factions have begun to order themselves and prepare, but it may take a few days, perhaps a week, before we are ready to fight," Alimas replied, "As I said before, if the Fallen attacked now, we would be devastated."

Harry's mind was a little numb, still swimming from information that he had gleaned from both Alimas and Dorjee. The Fallen had larger numbers, but many of them were weaker than normal. It was a consequence, Alimas had said, of hastened daemon maturation.

Dorjee feared that the Fallen could attack at any moment, his mind going through all the possibilities that he could foresee.

"Where do you think they are most likely to attack?" Dorjee asked Alimas, stopping for a moment to look at the daemon.

Alimas shook his head, "At this point, elder Dorjee, we have no answer to that question. Perhaps they will strike at our strongest points, as before, and we hope that they do."

"But why attack the strongest part of a defense?" Harry asked the tall daemon, who turned to him slowly.

"It is because they have long believed that if they defeat our strongest defenses, than all the rest will fall easily. It is a belief that has hindered them for many a year."

"But what if this time it is different? What if this time they will strike where you least suspect?"

"Then we must change to meet that, but to make sure we will send the bulk of our forces to our strongest positions. We will meet the enemy when the time comes, one way or another, anywhere on this planet."

Dorjee interrupted, "Do you think the overflow battling will affect us?"

Alimas was silent for a moment, "It has always affected humans, even in the slightest of ways, but this time it seems different. I fear they have a new leader, one more capable than the last. There may be a greater probability of human involvement," Alimas said, "They know that we wish to defend not only ourselves but you humans as well."

"Voldemort was like that too," Harry spoke up, "He attacked muggles knowing that we wanted to defend them and keep them safe. He used them to lure us out, either to trap us or to distract us..."

Both Dorjee and Alimas looked at the young man before them, his green eyes glowing and yet distant, as if reliving the memories of his past.

It was then that the mountain shook violently, making Dorjee and Harry fall over themselves at the ferocity of the movement. The water trembled and splashed in a rage as the earth trembled mightily. Rocks began to cascade down from the ceiling, adding their thuds and cracks to the sound of shifting earth.

Alimas stood, unmoved and unconcerned, though Harry sensed a surge in the power that emanated from Alimas. He seemed to be looking outside, as if he could see through the rock and soil.

"Earth daemons," he said very slowly, his hands balling up into fists.

Dorjee stood, steadying himself, as did Harry. The convulsions of the earth weakened as the distant booming of explosions resonated through the underground passages.

"My men!" cried Dorjee, running out the iron doors and beckoning for the guards that stood there to follow him. They obeyed, though still somewhat dazed.

Alimas looked over at Harry, who looked back at him.

"Will you help?" the raven-haired man asked.

"I will try," replied the blue daemon, his blue glow brightening and the particles on his body moving fast and fluid.

They raced after Dorjee as the mountain started to shake again.

* * *

_California State Magical Council Headquarters, Sacramento, CA_

Hermione's eyes jolted open as the ground reverbrated beneath her. The sound of yelling and the thunder of explosions was enough to get her out of bed, wand in hand. She got on her battle gear, the one she had worn on that final day of the last war. The final battle.

Her spare wands intact, she was about to leave her room when she overheard voices in the hallway just outside.

"I shall take care of this one myself. Finish off the rest, the Overlord wants this place annihalated," came a voice that Hermione knew all too well.

Fear gripped her, as well as anger and pain, pain from the betrayal that she felt.

She backed away from the door, wand in hand, as she readied herself for the confrontation to come.

It came soon enough.

The door burst open with a defeaning boom as Lord Grenville stepped into full view. His long gray hair and his trimmed beard shining in the firelight.

"Hermione.." he began, but Hermione cut him off.

"You traitor! You foul, corrupt, murderer! You betrayed us all!" she cried, her anger overwhelming her now.

"Let me explain..."

"NO! There can be no explanation!" she yelled as she threw spells at him, her wandhand whirring with great speed.

Grenville barely dodged the attacks, the spells shooting through the doorway behind him and exploding in the hallway outside.

"HERMIONE, LISTEN TO ME!" he shouted as he dodged and blocked her attacks with increasing difficulty. His breathing was fast and he was tiring, but Hermione was still relentless and unwilling to let up.

"Please Hermione! I am here to help! To help!" he cried as a spell singed his shoulder, making him twirl and fall to the ground. He hissed and grabbed at it as he constructed a hasty shield in front of him, but the attacks had paused for the moment.

"Help!?!? HELP!?! And how are you supposed to help me?! Traitorous scum," she spat at him, livid.

"I did not want this, Hermione, believe you me. But as soon as they tried to recruit me I knew I had to do it, just so that there would be a man inside, to help stop them. I did not expect, however, there to be another player involved in this game. Someone else here, not I, betrayed your findings to them. Someone in higher regard, they sent me and their minions to kill you," he explained.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, she didn't believe him, but she let him speak, her wand still trained on him. His life was in her hands, she knew that, and so she gave him a little more time.

The screams of the dying and sporadic explosions floated through the open doorway, but Hermione wasn't listening, her ears bent on the tale that Grenville was spinning.

"I want you to leave, Hermione. Get out while you can. Things are only going to get worse from here and I am giving you a chance to get out now, with your life," he said, his eyes flicking to the doorway as the sounds of fighting had died. Voices could be heard down the hall.

"Please, Hermione. If they find out you escaped, they will kill me and hunt after you. This is a chance for both of us."

Hermione lowered her wand, slowly. He was right. If she incapacitated him or killed him, they would hunt her. But if he kept true to his word, then she could leave safely and he would be in a better position to help stop them, if that was indeed what he was up to. She did not trust him on that, but in this case, the advantages of the deal were better than the consequences.

Grenville nodded, standing up, and then with flicks of his wand he created several explosions that rocked the building, one of which tore a hole through the wall and out into the night. The cold, night air blew in.

Hermione headed for the hole, the voices in the outside hallway getting louder, alarmed at the fighting still. She turned, nodded once to Grenville, who smiled sadly, and then she left.

* * *

_Temple of the Heavens..._

Harry sped through the underground passages, his heart pumping as he focused his mind, calling his magic to him as he ran. Alimas glode through the air beside him, eyes alight with power as his body began to glow brighter as well.

They eventually reached the temple. Stones littered the ground and dust fell as the entire temple shook, the distant rumblings of explosions getting louder.

They eventually reached the main hall, where many of the wounded or dying were being tended to. A group of monks stood at the entrance, guarding it, their eyes solemn as the cries of the wounded echoed through the air. Harry paused for a moment, taking a look at the people he had lived with for all these years.

Anger filled him then, fueling a fire that he had never been able to put out. Alimas turned to look back at the young man and took note of the power that filled him and rushed out of him. His emerald eyes glowed with a fury as he looked around.

Harry shifted his gaze over to Alimas, nodded, and they both hurtled through the main entrance.

Bright light blinded Harry for a moment before his eyes adjusted. A fireball was within a few feet of him when Alimas roared and a blue energy field surrounded Harry. The fireball impacted with a boom and fire engulfed Harry, but the energy field held firm and dissapated after the fire had gone.

Harry nodded to Alimas, who grinned before looking around. Two earth daemons were battling it out against groups of Dorjee's warriors and Dorjee himself was in the middle of it all, surrounded by a phalanx of his best warriors.

A lone fire daemon, horns twisting out of its head and bright, fiery red eyes glowing with power, roared as a spell managed to get past its defenses. The freezing spell took hold, freezing a small part of the large daemon, but the daemon glowed and the fire engulfing its body flared out, intensifying, and then the freezing spell dissapated.

It turned to the warrior who had managed to hit him and, with another roar, it jumped into the air, twisting around quickly as a bright ball of flame erupted from its hands. It released the ball at the warrior before crashing down on the ground with a mighty thud that shook the temple.

The ball of fire was about the size of a car and the warrior only had a moment to stand and watch as the fireball hurtled towards him. The barrier shield in front of him collapsed as the fireball sliced through it with ease. A large boom and a bright flash resulted as the fireball exploded onto the warrior, killing eight others around him and injuring and knocking over a dozen others.

"KEEP ATTACKING!" Dorjee yelled as the warriors had paused, either from fear or suprise at the ferocity of the attack.

Spells flew once more and the fire daemon created a flaming tornado around itself that absorbed all the spells being sent at it.

Alimas decided it was time to intervene and launched himself into the fray, his large eight-foot frame expanding a little more as he grew to about ten feet. His large blue body glowed with power as his eyes glowed so bright as to turn white. He growled and pulled his hand back, his arm glowing bright and small balls of light encircled his hand. It was like he was throwing a baseball, except when he did the throwing motion, a beam of blue energy lanced out from his hand, piercing through the tornado of fire like scissors to paper.

There was an unholy cry of pain as the beam hit its mark. It was an ear-splitting screech and all the humans were affected, causing them to falter for a moment.

The flaming tornado died as the fire daemon picked itself up from the ground, where it had gone. A hole filled its right side, the sides of which had turned gray. The rest of the daemon's body glowed less brightly than before, though still quite red.

The earth daemons took this momentary lapse in the humans' attack and attacked with a vengeance.

Stone spikes erupted from the ground, killing groups of warriors in an instant. Blood sprayed and pooled everywhere as the warriors screamed.

"Concentrate on the earth daemons!" Harry heard Dorjee yell, bringing him back to his senses. He had to do something.

The earth daemons had levitated large stone slabs and were having them orbit around them so as to block any oncoming spells. It was very effective and allowed the earth daemon to concentrate on attacking. One of them, reaching out with a long brown arm, grabbed the air and pulled down, causing a large part of the wall to collapse. Dozens of men were killed as the wall crashed down on them while those on the wall fell to their deaths.

Harry decided to deal with this one first, since this earth daemon was doing the most damage so far. Running, he headed for the earth daemon as another group of warriors lost their lives from thousands of sharp rock shards imbued with magical energy that pierced through their shields.

* * *

_Somewhere in California..._

Hermione apparated into the safehouse. Wand gripped tightly in her hand, she made sure that the house was secure. After ascertaining that no one had followed her and that no one was outside, watching, though she very much doubted someone could since she had put up the wards that guarded the house herself, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Satisfied that she was safe, she allowed herself to lie down on the bed and think. The destruction of the State Council was disastrous. If anything bad happened, the whole of California would panic and flop around like a dead snake whose head has been cut off.

That was exactly there point though, and she knew it. Somehow, she had to help stop that from happening. Millions of lives were at risk now that the magical leadership of the state was all but nonexistent. Her thinking eventually settled on the Lord Grenville.

Grenville was a very influential man in California, and very wealthy as well, but with the governing body of the state gone his influence had declined somewhat. He still had his uses though, which was probably why this group was using him. She knew she would have to confront him again in the near future to find out more, but first she would need help.

She sat up, suddenly. There was one Council member not there the day of her report. Perhaps she was still alive. She was out of bed instantly, her wand whipped out as she packed her things and also packed other supplies. She headed for the apparition point and left the safehouse. There were a few stops she'd have to make first.

* * *

_Temple of the Heavens_

Harry winced as he rolled to the left, a rock shard whizzing past him and scraping his arm slightly.

"Occulto angustus!" he cried, sending a hundred ropes out towards the earth daemon.

They wrapped themselves around the daemon, who cried out as his arms were forced tight across its body and its body fell to the ground with a thud.

The remaining warriors still fighting lashed out with powerful spells, but this also served to cut through the ropes. The daemon cried out in pain but with a mighty roar of defiance the daemon broke free of the ropes.

Harry, all this time, had run closer to the earth daemon and was now within just a few feet of it. The other warriors stopped attacking as they watched Harry point his wand at the earth daemon, who suddenly realized that Harry was there.

"Flatus ruina" Harry's wand glowed briefly before a thick bolt of dark red light emerged from its tip. Harry threw up a powerful barrier shield just in time as the spell hit the daemon straight in the face.

An enormous explosion rocked the temple, making even Harry fall. A pillar of dust and smoke leapt into the sky and a cloud of the mixture covered the ward, or yard, where they were fighting. The sounds of fighting were stilled as the shock from the explosion took its toll, but then the smoke cleared as multiple people banished the smoke.

Harry watched as the remains of the first daemon suddenly dissolved into a fine, golden dust that was carried by the wind, before disappearing forever. The second earth daemon saw that the first was dead and let loose a cry of anger.

Alimas, distracted by the explosion, looked over and the fire daemon seized this opportunity, launching himself at the blue daemon. They collided and fell to the ground with a booming crash as they continued to fight.

Harry stood, still somewhat stunned by the explosion but also a little numb. He had killed a daemon, something that he had thought impossible, but apparently not. Though he did not let it get to him. Alimas had said, after all, that many of the daemons that they would fight would be weaker than the normal ones. He just hoped he would be ready to fight one of those normal ones.

The second earth daemon carved a path towards Harry, killing a few more warriors. It was the thundering of the daemon's steps that brought Harry to his senses as he faced the daemon that raced towards him. His eyes glowed anew. Emeralds of power, Hermione had told him once.

The daemon roared.

* * *

**AN: **Merry Christmas! (or if you don't celebrate it - ) Happy Holidays:)


	6. Shadows

**General Note: **The story may seem a little slow time-wise, but it will speed up every now and then. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

**DISCLAIMER: **Harry Potter is... still not mine.. must I do this every chapter?!?! heh.

* * *

**True Darkness**

_**Shadows**_

* * *

_August 18, 2007  
Los Angeles, California_  
_1:25 am (PST)_

Hermione waited anxiously outside the tall, decrepit old building that threatened to break down at any moment. Of course, that is what it seemed like to the muggles. In actuality, the building was clean and new, having just been recently rebuilt.

She was standing in front of the new oak doors, on the newly placed stone steps. The building was made mostly of brick, with a few patches of stone here and there to add some flavor into the building.

A voice rang out of nowhere, echoing around Hermione. "Who's there?" it asked.

"Hermione Granger. I believe there is a Arnold Shuckabbe living here?"

"Aye, there be one man such as that. Let me tell him you're here, if you would wait a moment," the voice replied.

Hermione did not have to wait long as a few seconds later, the voice told her to come right on in and the oak doors opened on their own. She paused for a moment, before heading into the brightly lit lobby of the building. An old man with a cheerful smile greeted her warmly at the front desk.

"Arnold is in 2E, my dear."

After thanking the old man, Hermione made her way to the second floor and soon found herself in front of a door with _2E _emblazoned proudly on its face. She knocked twice and a voice told her to come on in, which she promptly obeyed.

"Hermione, my dear! What a pleasant surprise!" Arnold greeted her, flashing a smile as the old man hobbled over to her.

Arnold was very old and, as far as Hermione could remember, was pushing ninety. He looked quite healthy, though his old age was starting to get to him. Magic kept him younger than he looked, but she knew he was nearing his time. He still had thick, gray hair, with more white than she last remembered. Something else that she noticed was that he had shaved off his beard, opting instead to have no facial hair at all. Wrinkles carved themselves into his puffy flesh and they deepened as the old man smiled at her.

"Arnold!" Hermione hugged the old man, stooping a little to accomodate his shorter height.

Arnold Shuckabbe was, in Hermione, a very bright man. In his prime, he had been a Council member of the California State Council and also, before that, of the Washington State Council. He was a brilliant orator and had a sharp mind that could analyze almost anything. He also still had many contacts and resources, though he did not want to use them unless needed. He always told others to save their favors for bigger things and to deal with the less dire things on their own.

It was not that Hermione did not have contacts of her own. On the contrary, she might have more contacts than Arnold did at that point, but she needed his help because he had one contact that Hermione did not. Someone in W.A.N.D., the Wizarding Army for National Defense. It was a powerful organization in that it did indeed have an entire army of wizards under its disposal as well as other assets that were invaluable.

They, however, had not been used much in the last few years, owing to the peace that was created by the destruction of Voldemort and the end of that war in Europe. A new war, however, was nearing and, Hermione feared, might have already begun.

"To what do I owe this late night visit?" Arnold asked curiously, sitting down on a large, comfy chair.

Hermione sat down on the couch next to the chair and gathered her thoughts. She started from the beginning.

_

* * *

_

_August 18, 2007  
Temple of the Heavens, Tibet_

Alimas was wrestling with the fire daemon, who flared out its fiery body, but Aliams countered that with his own 'flaring' of water energy as his body glowed bright. They growled as Alimas twisted and got the fire daemon into a headlock. Using his free hand, Alimas clasped it into a glowing fist, which turned into a blue hammer. He brought it down, hard, on the fire daemon, which screamed in agony with each successive hit as its face was crushed.

Weakened, the fire daemon fell down as Alimas let go of it. The blue daemon jumped up into the air, summoning a long, teal blade into its hands. He crashed down on the fire daemon, the blade piercing the chest of the fire daemon. It roared for one last time before a golden glow washed over it, dissolving the daemon into golden bits of dust that disappeared into nothingness.

Alimas looked up then, to the last remaining daemon, and saw Harry as he was thrown up into the air.

Harry twisted in mid-air and cast a bubble shield on himself, just in time for a brown magical blob to hit the barrier surrounding him. It buffeted him slightly as he fell to the ground. He cast a strong cushioning charm on the ground just as he fell, rolling out of the fall easily. He winced from as the roll put pressure on some bruises he had gotten earlier, when he had not had enough time to brace himself for a nasty fall.

As he was at a distance now from the daemon, the surviving warriors launched a new wave of attacks on the earth daemon, overwhelming it with the sudden barrage of spells. It was then that the earth daemon suddenly dove into the ground, surprising everyone, especially Harry.

Harry, however, could feel the magical presence of the earth daemon as it moved underground. Healing his bruises as quickly as possible, he ran after it, closely followed by Alimas.

"He is running away!" the water daemon hissed.

Harry called his magic to him then and let loose with the most powerful summoning spell that he could muster. The earth daemon halted in its tracks and a moment of struggle between them ensued, before the earth daemon appeared in an explosion of dirt. The gaping hole in the ground was quickly covered as Alimas sent torrents of water into the hole, effectively sealing it with mud.

The earth daemon, dazed, growled slightly as it shook its head. Alimas took the chance and a large muddy fist erupted from the ground, wrapping its fingers around the earth daemon. The hand was so large that it made the earth daemon look like a bug in comparison as Alimas glowed bright blue with magic, moving the hand with his magic.

The earth daemon let loose a cry of pain as the hand began to crush it, slowly and steadily. The earth trembled then as a three earthen tentacles suddenly pierced through the earth. They proceeded to attack the hand, but the mud merely stuck to the earthen tentacles. The tentacles tried to wrap themselves around the hand, but it was no use. The tentacles lost cohesion and fell apart into dust.

Alimas cancelled the spell and the mud hand collapsed onto the ground, golden particles drifting upwards and disappearing into the air from it.

Harry turned as Dorjee walked over to him, his warriors already tending to the injured and the dead. Some were already cleaning and repairing the temple, though as Harry looked around the temple looked more like a ruin at the moment.

"Well done, Harry, well done!" said the elder monk, a small smile tugging at his lips. Harry could tell, however, that he was not as happy as he made himself appear to be.

Harry merely nodded, unsure of what to say, as Alimas floated over to them.

"Where is it?" Alimas asked suddenly, his eyes aglow.

"Where is what?" the elder replied.

"The shard of Quintesel that you possess, where is it?"

"The shard of... ahh.." Dorjee's eyes widened. "It is in the sacred vault, of course, along with all the other artifacts that the temple houses."

"Use it, quickly! Or send it elsewhere! We are close to a Fallen base and daemons, the Fallen most of all, are attracted to it. They will strike again if it is still here!" Alimas told them, his voice slightly strained, "Even I am attracted to it now, but I can control myself whilst they cannot."

Dorjee beckoned for them to follow as they headed for the vault.

Harry could only begin to wonder what a Quintesel was and what it did.

* * *

_Fort Irwin, San Bernardino, CA  
1:31 am (PST)_

General Pillar saluted, two dozen of his men flanking the little pathway that was made. Captain Alexander stood, saluting, a little behind him and to his right.

General Carlton was shorter than Pillar, but was a big, burly man with a strong personality. He was a little chubby and was pushing sixty, but showed no signs of stopping yet. He saluted back, a little loosely, as he walked down the steps of the sleek Cessna Citation X jet.

"Now where is our special guest?" the General asked after shaking Pillar's hand and nodding at Jason.

"He's right this way, sir." Pillar led him to a convoy of humvees that idled next to them.

Five minutes later, they stopped in front of the detention center, a large, stone building with no windows, save for the small slit openings that served to provide "fresh air" to the detainees inside.

They were buzzed through the beefed up security and cleared to see the prisoner, Pillar not bothering to mention that the strange incident involving the intruder earlier. There was no need to worry the General, especially since they could not explain how she got in and out of the base, let alone that little cell. It was as if she had used magic.

Four soldiers saluted crisply as the cell door opened. The detainee was sitting down on the small bed on one side of the cell as Capt. Alexander, Gen. Carlton, and Gen. Pillar stepped into the cell.

"Good evening to you, sir," General Carlton greeted, clasping his hands in front of him.

The man nodded, eyes wide as he looked at each of the three officers.

"Do you know why you're here, Mister..?"

"Collins, Beuferd Collins, sir. And... I am not sure, really," replied the man, hesitating for a moment before he spoke.

"You are the sole survivor of what we believe was an attack of some sorts. Terrorists? Possibly a new enemy weapon, a missile or plane?" the General continued, "If you could enlighten us, it would be appreciated." The general's smile gleamed, the small slit of moonlight entering through the tiny opening illuminating pearly white teeth.

* * *

_Temple of the Heavens_

Harry followed Dorjee as they wound through the many passages of the temple. They eventually arrived at the farthest end of the temple and the area deepest into the side of the mountain. The air was cold in here, owing to the lack of sunlight, and the few torches did not help.

A stone alcove blocked their path and a small statue stood in the middle of it. Dorjee reached into a pocket and withdrew a ring full of keys. He looked at it for a few seconds before selecting a rather large and ornate bronze key. Harry was about to ask where the door was when Dorjee reached for the head of the statue and, with a grunt, pulled it up and twisted it to the left.

The alcove shuddered and machinery groaned from deep within as the alcove suddenly began to rotate, revealing a passage behind it. Dorjee looked at Harry and Alimas and beckoned for them to follow, but the daemon stayed.

"If I get too close, the desire to get the Quintesel will overwhelm me. I shall stay here." Alimas floated farther down the hall and turned, crossing his arms as he did so. He nodded at them and Dorjee nodded back.

On the way over to the vault, Alimas had explained to the both of them what a Quintesel was and what it did. A Quintesel was, apparently, a natural element grown in nature. It was pure magic in physical form and is formed when there is a dense amount of magic in one area and that magic is powerful enough to create a Quintesel. The core of the earth, he had explained, was made of Quintesel, which created the still unexplained, to humans at least, effect of gravity.

Harry had asked why no wizards or daemons had tried to get Quintesel from the core then, if there was so much, and the reply was simple enough. The magic in the core was too thick and too powerful that anyone or anything that neared it would not only go mad, but would, after a while, be dissolved as their magical essence became absorbed into the core.

Quintesel was rarely found on the surface as it was usually formed underground, in deep and dark areas of the earth. Because of the magical power contained within Quintesel shards, daemons, who are closer to magic than most beings, are extremely attracted to its pure magical form. It was hazardous to absorb too much of a Quintesel for one person because of the amount of pure magic contained within. Usually, one absorbed only parts of a Quintesel over a long period of time so that the body would get used to the new magic.

"There is a legend that there was a great daemon once, one that had the power of many elements. This daemon was so strong that he went wherever he pleased and no others could stop him. He was good, though, but terribly obsessed with power. One day, he discovered a whole mine of Quintesel, and forgetting any precaution due to his excitement and lust for power, he absorbed many shards," Alimas told them, "It was then that his body grew extremely bright and he paused, for he felt a strange feeling within him. The magic within him was too much for his body to cope with and his body became more and more transluscent as the great amounts of Quintesel merged with his magic. Suddenly, the magic broke through his body, shattering him as the magic became too much to contain. He ceased to exist, though his magic was absorbed into the world's own magic and later, his magic became a large Quintesel shard..."

Dorjee shook Harry's shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Come now, Harry. We have no time," he said as he walked into the hidden passageway.

Dorjee used the key on a large, ornate wooden door at the end of the passageway. The door groaned open, dust falling from it as it did so. Harry and Dorjee coughed a little before Harry had the sense to cast some cleaning spells.

It was dark when they entered, but Dorjee clapped his hands together twice and bright blue flames stirred to life all around the large hall. Numerous items lay scattered about the hall, from mountains of gold and silver to piles of armor and weaponry. There was even a small section of shelves for books and other items. It reminded Harry of his own Gringotts vaults and the thought of the goblin bank brought memories to his forefront.

He struggled to repress them once more, realizing that the barrier that blocked some of his older memories was weakening by the day. It was as if his mind wanted him to remember something. Shaking that thought away, he followed Dorjee as he navigated his way through the treasures and artifacts that filled the hall.

They eventually reached a stone pedestal, upon which was a pillow. Resting on the pillow was a golden shard that glowed very brightly. Harry felt the intense magic contained within the rock-like substance, but also saw that it looked as if it were made of water for it had ripples within it, as if it were a glass case and contained a golden liquid. Just like what daemons looked like, except with their respective colors of course.

Dorjee waved his wand and the Quintesel levitated slowly. He conjured a pouch large enough to hold it and slowly dropped the shard into the pouch. He then poked at the pouch with his wand and was rewarded with a crunching sound.

He summoned a golden chalice from somewhere in the room and reached into a little brown bag that they had picked up on the way to the vault. Alimas had given instructions on how humans could absorb the power of the shards, but even humans, he warned, had a limit to the amount they could absorb at one time.

Harry watched, anxious to see the finished product. The chalice puffed some smoke as Alimas added the final ingredient, a few broken pieces of the Quintesel shard. A hiss and some more smoke later, the concoction had turned a dull gold.

"It will be some time before the potion is ready. I will try to mask the aura of the Quintesel, but I doubt it will prove effective if it is close enough to a daemon. Hide it well and add on your own masking spells to it if you wish, perhaps your friends will be of need of it in the future," Dorjee said, offering the pouch.

Harry shook his head, confused. "I cannot accept this, master. It is too much! This is a lot of power!"

"Exactly why you need it. I am old, Harry, older than you may think. I have no further use of greater power, no need for it. You will need as much power as you can get, especially your friends and allies if they need it. This war will only get worse and it is better that you and your friends can face the challenges with a little more ease," said Dorjee, enchanting the pouch with some spells before handing it over to Harry.

The young wizard looked at it then, his eyes still glowing slightly, before he cast his own spells on it and pocketed the pouch. The aura was still strong, but not as intoxicating as before.

"I will leave with Alimas for now. Take five minutes before you come back out, we do not want him to get too close to it," Dorjee began to walk to the entrance. He paused and turned, "You may take a look around if you wish," before continuing to walk out.

Harry eyed the goblet, a slight glow starting to emenate from the liquid, and then his eyes swept over the other contents of the vault. Old memories came back to haunt him.

* * *

_Fort Irwin, CA  
1:59 am_

"Flying creatures? Fire? Demons???" General Carlton asked, shaking his head. "He is either witholding the truth or he has gone mad. Interrogate him again, we need this information. Who knows what kind of evil weapon caused this?"

"I understand, sir. We'll get right on it." Pillar replied. Something told him the man was telling the truth though. It was a gut feeling, and gut feelings were usually right in Pillar's case. He also had a gut feeling that this was something bigger and nastier than they thought it was.

"Good. I will not tolerate terrorism in our country, Matt. We must not rest until the perpetrators are found. I've already requested for some of the reserves to be called forth and they should be reinforcing the west. Intelligence suggests that the Russians are getting a little aggressive up in Alaska. They've been having lots of 'exercises' up there and they've been sending a lot of their troops to the East." Carlton looked out the window into the night.

"Do you think they're behind this attack, sir?" Pillar probed.

"President and his advisors think it is a possibility, of course our intelligence sources in _Mother_ Russia are not as reliable as they used to be..." the general trailed off.

"I doubt they will invade, sir. The Cold War's long gone and there is no reward for them in this case... NATO would attack them from the West and so would our other allies elsewhere. Besides, this is our home turf, they won't get very far," Pillar said, more to assure himself than the general.

Carlton laughed, shaking his head, "Do you know how many men and resources we have over there in Iraq and Afghanistan? If the Russians hit us now, we'd be hard pressed to keep the Central states!"

Pillar didn't like this. He shivered as fear crept up his spine. He didn't think he'd live to see war, especially on home soil.

* * *

_Los Angeles, CA  
2:00 am_

Arnold was silent after Hermione finished, which made her wonder if he had paid attention. He was old after all.

"That is a very tricky situation you have yourself in, Hermione," he said, pursing his lips together and stroking his chin.

"Well, I was wondering if you could contact your man in W.A.N.D. and get me some help, perhaps? They need to be alerted to this situation." Hermione shifted uneasily on the couch. "They are still in power, right?" she asked, suddenly unsure.

Arnold nodded, "Oh yes, yes. Very much so, though they have been quiet of late. Even with the war against terror and the wars in the Middle East, they are only using minimal resources. It has been a while since I've spoken to Kylie.." he trailed off, as if remembering something from the past.

Hermione waited for him to continue, thinking of what else she needed to do.

"It will probably be a few days before I can arrange a meeting. I assume you will want to speak with the leader of W.A.N.D. directly?"

"If you could arrange it," she replied with a little surprise.

"Oh, I think I can arrange for a little more than that, but if that's all you want, wait here. I'll go give her a call." Arnold stood up and walked, slowly, over to a telephone base. His aged and bony hand grabbed the wireless phone from its base and he began to dial.

Unlike in Europe, where magical communications were limited to owls, firecalls, and some magical phones, in the United States, technology had been a major priority of the Wizarding community. Magical phones that worked anywhere in the world as long as they were not, of course, interfered with, were made along with radios and other forms of modern communication. She remembered that it was one of the reasons why she wanted to go here, to study these new technologies' magical properties. She, being a muggle-born, had used phones numerous times.

Arnold went into the other room, though Hermione was not sure why, she did not follow him. She lay on the couch and thought of what she needed to do. What could she do? After telling W.A.N.D, they should be able to handle the situation, though she wanted to be in the thick of it when it happened.

A stray thought suddenly struck her, which made her feel both angry and sad. Were Harry and Ron and the others involved in this sudden occurence? Or was it just her? How were they? Were they happy? These questions filtered through her mind, but she shook them away, forcing them to leave her alone.

"Remember why you left, Hermione!" she whispered to herself fiercely, a single tear forming in her eye.

It was a long time ago, but she still remembered that day clearly. It was the day after the final battle, the day after they had won.

* * *

_The sun was shining brightly, almost as if it were trying to share some warmth and happiness in the cold meeting that was being held beneath it. The lake shimmered in the sunlight, but this did nothing to affect the moods of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who met up for the last time._

_Hogwarts was broken, though it was to be rebuilt in the following weeks, at the moment they had their last meeting it was ruined. The walls were torn down, a line of rubble that ringed the ruins of what was once home to the trio. The Gryffindor and Astronomy towers had collapsed, the latter imploding in upon itself while the former falling over to the side, leaving a gaping hole in the castle and a line of rubble leading away from it._

_Nearly all, if not all, of the windows were shattered, though there were hundreds of holes that dotted the castle walls. The Great Hall was now open to the elements, the enchanted ceiling having been blasted away and the walls having been utterly destroyed._

_Black marks, from spells and fires, scarred the once pristine and beautiful grounds. The Whomping Willow ceased to exist, having been cut down, and now was the Withered Willow. The Quidditch pitch was just a pile of rocks and burnt wood and edge of the Forbidden Forest was farther now, since many of the trees had been cut down or burned from the battle._

_All in all, it was an unpleasant sight and one that probably should not have been within sight of this fateful meeting. The meeting that would break the Golden Trio, the heroes of the Wizarding World._

_Harry arrived first, like he usually did, and sat with a look of deep thought on his face. Hermione followed close behind while Ron was a little late, as usual. It had made her smile that day, though she hid the smile from the two. There was utter silence for what seemed like an hour as they tried to think of what to say._

_There seemed to be a mutual agreement that they were going to break up and that there was no stopping it. Of course, this meeting was called to try and stop it, but they all were thinking the same thing. There was no way to stop it._

_"So.." Harry began, his emerald eyes locking on to Hermione's brown ones and then to Ron's blue ones, but he said nothing more._

_"So," Ron repeated, nodding slowly._

_Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, a smile starting to form again but she forced it back. She was the one that had told them she was leaving and that had sparked an argument that led to that silent agreement that they were no longer to be the Golden Trio._

_"Listen, I have some packing to do and... I... I just can't anymore. I'm sorry," she had told them. She stood up, but then Harry stood, followed by Ron._

_"Wait!" he had said, his emerald eyes faltering for a moment before they turned hard once more. "Why?"_

_The question was so simple and straightforward, but she could not put into words what she felt when she was around them, when she was around these places. Places so full of memories, of lives lost or changed. She shook her head, unwilling to trust herself to speak._

_"Is it because of your parents?" the question floated into the air. She did not even know who asked it._

_"I didn't know about it, Hermione... I was helping the Weasleys... and I came too late.." Harry spoke softly._

_"Helping us?!?! HELPING?! You came when it was over, Harry. Percy was dead, Ginny was injured, Bill, Charlie, the Twins... and then.. then... my parents..." Ron suddenly retorted. His arm was extended, hand balled into a fist save for one finger, which was pointing at Harry as if by doing so Harry would melt from guilt and sorrow._

_Harry said nothing, his eyes staring at nothing in particular, though he was looking down at the ground._

_"Helping... psh.." Ron muttered, but the silence carried it over and made Harry turn slightly, as if by doing so he could make it so that Ron did not exist. So that he would not hear anything he said anymore._

_"What are you talking about, Ronald?! You were supposed to be guarding my parents that night!" Hermione suddenly spoke up, bitterly. "You told me, 'Oh, I'll keep an eye on them for you, 'Mione! They're safe with me.'"_

_Ron turned to her then and they both glared at each other. He narrowed his eyes, "Forgive me if my family was attacked first. I didn't think that yours would be attacked too!"_

_"EXACTLY!" Hermione yelled, "You. Did. Not. Think." Her eyes were glowing slightly._

_Ron's were glowing as well as the tension in the air thickened. "And you think too much! I act! If I hadn't gone, the rest of my family may have just died that night too!"_

_"ENOUGH!" Harry's voice boomed, startling them. "If you want to go, just... just go. I don't like it when we are fighting like this... especially after... after everything." He turned to them and he looked so sad that Hermione couldn't help but let that tear she had been holding back roll down her cheek._

_"I'm sorry... I just can't..." she said and turned, walking away very slowly._

_"So much for friends," Ron said silently, though yet again the quietness allowed his voice to drift over to them. He spat on the ground, turned, and walked away with a determined air._

_Hermione hesitated a moment, her legs freezing as her mind flashed back to all the good times she had with them. All the way back to them saving her life in the bathrooms during first year. The letters, the adventures, the laughters, the tears... the fights... all of it came rushing to her, making her feel a little dizzy._

_She spun around, as if to walk back and say something, to make it all better, as she saw that Harry stood there still, looking out onto the lake. He turned, like he knew that she had too, and they locked gazes for a moment. She smiled slightly and Harry returned it with a sad one of his own, before turning back to the lake._

_She turned her back to them then and hadn't looked back, busying herself with work, further studying, and even more work. It had kept her from thinking about them and about her past. She never looked back...__

* * *

_

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. She immediately grabbed it with a tight grip, eliciting a cry of pain, but then she remembered where she was and let go quickly. She apologized profusely to Arnold, who was rubbing his arm and chuckling.

"No! No! It's alright, my dear. It was... my fault, I believe. I startled you. It is understandable." The old man set a tray down on the coffee table. "Tea or coffee?" he offered in a tired voice.

"No thank you, I should be going. I'm sorry for intruding at such a late hour, but it was of the utmost importance..." but she stopped when Arnold held up a hand and shook his head.

"It is fine, my dear. I quite enjoy these late night visits," he chuckled, "Kylie will meet with you in three days. Come back here and I am to take you where she will meet us. It has been a long time since I've gone out of this building, a long time indeed." He returned to the chair he had previously occupied and sat down on it again, his eyes blinking sleepily.

"Thank you, Arnold. I will be back in three days then." She got up to leave, but Arnold called her attention.

"There is one thing that I want you to know," he began, "You're friend, Ronald Weasley, one of the Great Trio, is missing. Kyle told me about it and that the English Ministry was trying to keep it a secret, but it will be all over the news soon enough. I just want you to know now so you can... do something about it, if you wish. I shall see you in three days then, Hermione. Stay safe," he finished and then promptly fell asleep.

Hermione left quietly, though she wasn't really aware of where she was going. Ron was missing? Her thoughts turned to Harry then, but she also began to wonder if this... group that Grenville was involved with was behind this latest act.

* * *

_Three days later  
Temple of the Heavens..._

Harry was gazing up at the stars. He was sprawled out on top of the castle wall, his feet flat on the battlements. He had conjured a pillow for his head, but otherwise only had a warming charm to keep him company over his vigil in the night.

The wind stirred, ruffling some of his unkempt hair. He grinned slightly, remembering all those times when his friends would comment on the unruliness of his hair. It seemed to symbolize himself. Unable to be ordered around and doing whatever it wanted to. He snorted, he was getting a little too analytical there. His hair symoblized his freedom? He snorted again as he ran a hand through his raven hair.

The stars twinkled back at his green orbs as they darted back and forth, watching the stars communicate with each other. They did not seem to care what happened on earth. Cold, distant observers that have seen everything that has happened on earth since the beginning of time. He envied them, and yet pitied them. They were immune to mortal hurts and strifes, unable to feel the pain of betrayal, the pang of regret, the tug of jealousy, and the hunger of desire. Yet they were also unable to have or make friends, to have loved ones, to feel love, to feel happiness. They were just there, watchers of the night.

He stirred as a great magical aura approached him. A bluish tinge of light grew stronger, reassuring him that it was Alimas. The water daemon was still a stranger to Harry, with much of his past unknown to the young wizard.

"It is a beautiful evening, Harry Potter. May I join you?" he asked, gliding silently through the air, the only hint of his presence being his aura and his blue glow.

"Sure." Harry shifted to look at the water daemon, who placed his hands on the battlements and leaned on it, looking out. Harry watched as the watery substance that seemed just a bare centimeter beneath the daemon's skin rippled and moved throughout the daemon's body. The light that shone from him moved along with the movement of the watery substance, ever changing. It was as if a blue light were shone onto a pool and reflected onto something else.

"Alimas?"

The blue daemon turned to Harry.

"How old are you?"

Alimas' mouth widened into a smile, "I was born more than 3000 years ago, Harry. I am one of the oldest living daemons that still walk this earth."

"Who is the oldest?" Harry said, though he was shocked at the age of Alimas. He had not expected him to be _that _old!

"I am... not sure. There are only a handful, that I know of, who are older than me. I do not know about the Fallen though." Alimas looked back out at whatever he was looking at that Harry couldn't see.

"Why not use the Quintesel?"

The question seemed to startle Alimas because he seemed to lose balance, barely, but Harry caught the movement.

"I... I am strong enough to not need the use of the power shards. You humans need it more than we daemons do, especially if you are to help against the Fallen," Alimas replied plainly.

Harry nodded, even though Alimas could not see.

"Alimas, may I ask you a... personal question?" Harry spoke after a while, watching the starry sky once more.

"You may."

"Do you have family?" Harry looked back at Alimas.

* * *

_Somewhere in Nevada, northeast of Lake Meade..._

Hermione looked up at the sky. Dark clouds covered much of it, making the night even darker than it should be. Arnold had been instructed to have no active lights out else they be seen by unwanted eyes and so they stumbled through the darkness as they headed for the meeting area.

A heavy anti-apparition and anti-portkey ward encircled a large part of this area and the closest they could get to the rendezvous point was about three miles. This was only because the meeting place was near the border of the wards.

They had not planned on walking for that far. Hermione was fit enough, though she realized how important keeping fit was as they stumbled on. Arnold was having fun, enjoying this exciting adventure, but he was, at the moment, in pain as his old limbs tried to keep up with Hermione.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked him for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

"I'm... I'm fine! Fine!" Arnold whispered back loudly. His breathing was hard and ragged, but because it was so dark Hermione could not see if he was indeed okay. He did not sound fine to her.

The sound of movement startled Hermione, making her stop dead in her tracks as she concentrated on her hearing. The distinct sound of disturbed rocks rolling could be heard ahead.

"What??" Arnold asked in a loud whisper again, "What is it?? Is it... Is it them?"

"Shh!" Hermione hissed back, putting a finger to her lips even though she knew Arnold could not see her.

She was wearing jeans and a shortsleeve shirt, over which she wore a light jacket. The jacket was mostly to cover up the wand holster on her arm, though she did like the jacket, it was one of her favorites. A backpack with everything she needed clung to her back weightlessly because of the charms she had put on them. She would not even have felt the backpack there had it not been for the straps on her shoulders.

"I hear something..." Hermione whispered back softly.

"What?" Arnold asked, not having heard her. His voice was a little louder than previously and Hermione shushed him again, this time alarmed because the movement of rocks had gotten closer.

She felt strange presences close by and gripped her wand tighter in her hand as she crouched down low, pulling Arnold down with her. Hermione did not like this and she kept telling herself that she did not like this. She felt nervous and, worst of all, afraid.

After regaining her composure, she decided to screw W.A.N.D. She would not go about in the dark, scrabbling over rocks and fearing every unknown movement any longer.

"Lumos." The tip of her wand erupted with light as a strong beam of light streamed out of it. An unholy scream followed as her light hit a dark figure that moved away from the light so quickly she would not have noticed had it not been for the fact that it had screeched.

She followed the thing with her light, whispering to Arnold to light up his own wand. Two beams of light circled around the two as their backs pressed against each other.

The creatures hissed all around them and screamed every now and then when they were caught in the light. Hermione was scared then, these were not dementors as she had first thought. There was no symptom of coldness, no sudden reliving of past pains and horrors.

"Show yourselves!" she yelled, more out of fear of not knowing what they were than of courage or curiosity.

She thrust her wand up into the air and sent a bright firework up, which exploded, illuminating the surrounding area for a brief moment. Hermione suddenly wished she hadn't.

Four dark figures with human shapes cried out in surprise and a little pain, their bodies looked smokey and shifty, as if they were smoke and shadow combined. That was when something strange happened.

A dark smoke suddenly appeared around them and the smoke seemed to... _eat_ the light. Both of their light spells suddenly dimmed and went out.

"Run, Hermione!" Arnold said as he cast bright orbs of light all around him. The dark beasts had come closer, but then hissed away from the light. That was when black blobs flew towards the orbs, shattering them and destroying them.

"FIGHT ME YOU FOUL BEASTS!" Arnold roared defiantly, throwing spells all around him. He turned to Hermione and yelled, "RUN!"

Hermione ran. Arnold let loose a cry of pain and then the darkness consumed the night once more.

Hermione stumbled and tripped over a rock, grunting in pain as she scraped her knees and landed a hard on some rocks. She already felt bruises forming as she struggled to get up.

"Lumos," she whispered.

The beasts roared.

* * *

**AN: **HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 2008!!!! Thanks to all reviewers. Any suggestions and comments are welcome. I know I'm not that good a writer so if you have anything to share with me that may help me improve, I am all ears. Just please, no flames... I don't want to burn. Thanks to all reviewers and thanks to all those who are still reading! Hehe. :) 


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